


Something Just Like This

by joooooooo_e



Series: stringing together memories for you and i to look over someday [3]
Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: AU, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks. How many flashbacks is too many?, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joooooooo_e/pseuds/joooooooo_e
Summary: Six months after their fake date stint in Mumbai, Kala visits Wolfgang in Berlin.(sequel/companion to 'Hold My Hand, And Don't Let Go')





	1. It's What Family's For (part one)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the love for the previous fic in this series! Your response was so positive; and because I loved writing that story so much, and because you guys wanted to know what happens next, here it is! Massive hugs to ao3 user Leela for the prompt; and as always, to Lynn (@davincisexual) for obsessing about kalagang with me <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading :-)

“What are you so giggly for?” A male voice asked suspiciously, yet the beginnings of laughter laced his tone.

Kala jumped in her seat with a small gasp as she looked up from her phone, a little startled as she familiarised herself with her surroundings. Oh. Right. They were at the outdoor deck of Lito’s penthouse apartment.

( _It_ _’s Saturday, and Lito’s invited us out to his place_ , Nomi sighed on the phone to her a few hours ago. _We’ll have drinks, have some food. Please, Kala? If not for me, do it for Lito. You know how he gets when Hernando’s out of town._ Truth be told, she didn’t need much convincing, anyway. She was desperate to get out of her own apartment - away from laboratory reports and work.)

Across the table, Lito leaned forward in his seat, his lips turned up in a small grin. To her right, Nomi smirked at her, one hand adjusting the frame of her glasses while the other reached out and picked a grape or two from the porcelain bowl.

Kala pushed the lock screen button on her phone, set it down on the table with the screen facing down. _Next to her forgotten plate of biscuits and cheese_. She smiled shyly, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she asked, “Pardon?”

She took note of the way Lito and Nomi’s eyes twinkled in great amusement.

Lito cleared his throat. “I asked, what are you so giggly for?”

Nomi turned to Lito and gave him a pointed look. “Lito, come on. I think we all know why, or rather, who the reason behind that is.” She turned back to Kala and tossed her a suggestive wink. “You still talk with him over Skype and text?”

Kala nodded, a blush creeping on her face. “Mostly text. But yes, we occasionally Skype.”

Lito’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh!” He piped. “Wolfgang?”

“Uh, yeah.” Nomi rolled her eyes at his cluelessness. “Get with it, Lito.”

He threw a grape at her, not appreciating the sarcasm, stuck his tongue out playfully as Nomi gasped indignantly.  “Hermosa, I must say-” he crossed his arms in front of his face to use as a shield when Nomi retaliated with her own handful of grapes -“I saw the pictures from the wedding. You two look good together.”

Nomi leaned back in her chair, hands clasping the armrest on either side of her. “Good? Try smoking hot! Did you see the way he was looking at Kala?” She lifted one hand to gesture at Kala now. “God, I don’t know how you could resist that man - especially with those eyes.”

Kala coughed awkwardly, the memory still fresh in her mind as if it happened only a few days ago. She didn’t exactly resist him, per se.

Nomi turned back to Lito, who shook his head at her candour. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I may have a fiancee, but it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a piece of art like Mr Wolfgang Bogdanow. Amanita thinks the exact same.”

Kala’s heart started beating faster as an image of the contours of his abdomen came to her mind. Of the muscles on his back. Of the two dimples above -

She caught Nomi’s gaze and immediately looked down at her plate, counting the stray crumbs around the edges as the two continued to bicker.

She heard Lito scoff a little as he pushed his chair back to stand up. Kala lifted her head and watched as he walked to the kitchen.

He slid the glass door almost all the way closed, and Nomi craned her neck to make sure he was out of earshot before she spoke. “Oh my god. You did not.”

Huh? Kala stared back at her, a blank expression on her face. _Did not what?_

“Was it the night I called? Before you left?” Nomi scooted forward in her seat when Kala remained silent. “Kala! Don’t play coy with me.”

 _Tell me you had sex with him_ , Kala remembered Nomi pleading with her on the phone. _One passionate night before the two of you return to your home cities. How romantic would that be?_

“Nomi, no!” Her cheeks burned as she realised what Nomi was asking. “We just kissed,” she said with a small voice.

“Just kissed? Come on, Kala.” Nomi looked at her imploringly. “You, of all people, don’t just kiss anyone.”

She supposed that was true.

“Was it nice?” Nomi prompted.

Kala remembered the feel of his lips, chapped and rough, yet pliant against hers. The warmth of his palms when he cupped her face. The rise and fall of his chest against hers as they tried to catch their breath.

“Yes. It was.”

Nomi squealed, an unfamiliar sound that caught Kala off guard, but made her giggle nonetheless. “Are you planning to visit him soon?”

Kala’s mood plummeted instantly. “I don’t know.”

For a few minutes it was silent, only the faint whir of a blender being heard in the background.

Then, Nomi asked, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Kala shook her head slowly. “I want to, Nomi. I really want to visit him. But I can’t. With how busy I am at work these past few months…” She blinked back involuntary tears, ignored the slight stinging of her eyes.

“Honey-”

Her chest ached as she allowed herself to think of their parting kiss at the Chhatrapati Shivaji airport, as she allowed herself to think of his final spoken words to her. _It’s a date._

She inched closer to Nomi, asked in a broken whisper, “Am I foolish? To miss someone I’ve only known for a week?”

Nomi’s arms wrapped around her in a hug, and then she couldn’t stop a few tears from spilling.

“No. Never.” Nomi shushed her in comfort, hands patting her back to a slow beat. “It’s been six months, Kala. That’s a long time. I can’t imagine being away from Amanita for even more than a few days, let alone six months.”

Kala breathed deeply, let out a shaky exhale. A small sob torn from her throat.

“Look. Just because you’ve only known him for a week, it doesn’t make your feelings toward him any less real.” At the skeptical huff Kala let out, Nomi repeated, “They don’t. Okay?” She held her tighter in the embrace.

Lito came bouncing in with a smile on his face, which immediately dropped into a frown at the sight of Nomi comforting a teary Kala.  He clutched a near overflowing blender with one hand and three glasses in the other. “Family, what’s wrong? What did I miss?”

Nomi smoothed a hand down Kala’s back one last time, before softly pushing her away to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Kala just needs a little pick-me-up.”

“Well...” Lito beamed. He placed the blender in the middle of the table with a flourish, lined up the three glasses with their edges already rimmed in salt. “It’s a good thing I made frozen margaritas.”

* * *

For the next week, all thoughts of Berlin were out of her mind (not of Wolfgang, never of Wolfgang), as she pored over experiment after experiment at work. It was now Wednesday, just after five-thirty in the afternoon. Kala turned down the heat on the stove when she heard a series of knocks on her apartment door.

“Lito. Nomi.” She didn’t mask her tone of surprise. “You’re early. Dinner isn’t ready for another few hours.”

“We know, but we just wanted to hang out with you,” Lito grinned.

Kala returned his smile. “In that case, come in. You two can help me in the kitchen.”

“Oh, yay,” Nomi said dryly. But Kala took no malice, instead grinning at her and leaning forward to kiss Nomi on the cheek. She stepped to the side to let Nomi through the door, wiped her hands on the tea towel slung on her shoulder before enveloping Lito in a hug.

“What are we making?” He asked.

Kala shut the door, following behind Lito and Nomi as they made their way through the living room. “I've already got the tomato sauce simmering on the stove for the pasta. So we just need to make the garlic bread and fry some chicken.”

“It smells so good in here,” Nomi declared as she placed her backpack on the reclining sofa.

Kala’s eyes widened as she saw her laptop sitting right at the edge of the table, screen still open and the page still displaying her emails from when she got home. She moved it so it sat on the middle of the table, relieved that it won’t accidentally fall off and break on her.

“You okay?” Nomi asked.

She nodded, closing the screen and putting the laptop on sleep mode. She straightened her spine and called out,  “Lito, could you please grab me two eggs?”

“Of course,” He replied from the kitchen. “Was that tiramisu I just saw?” He asked when Kala and Nomi stood on the other side of the granite countertop.

“I picked it up from the bakery after work.”

Nomi beamed. “Carbs and sugar, with a kick of alcohol? God, you’re amazing.”

Kala smiled, walking around to Lito’s side and started preparing the batter for the fried chicken. Lito caught on, took the chicken breasts from the fridge and started slicing them into wide strips.

Nomi stayed where she was, leaning forward to observe the preparations. “Speaking of work, Kala. How has it been lately?”

“It’s settling down. Finally,” Kala sighed. She measured out a few different seasonings and tossed them in a different bowl. “I don’t imagine this will last, so I’m just going to enjoy it while I can.”

“Who better to enjoy it with?” Lito gestured at himself and to Nomi. “Right, carina?”

“Absolutely.” Kala nodded with a smile, which dropped slightly. There was one other person she could enjoy this with. She immediately berated herself, but there was that fleeting thought of Berlin and _It’s a date_ again.

Nomi stared at her, a questioning look in her eyes. But Kala shook it off, fixed Nomi a smile to say she was fine, and continued to prepare their dinner.

The conversation flowed freely after that, with Nomi talking about Amanita camping with her dads and her mother somewhere in California. The topic switched to Hernando’s teaching conference in Italy - he’d just gotten back this morning and Lito wanted him to sleep in so he can get proper rest before going back to work tomorrow.

Sometime, in the middle of the conversation and making cheesy garlic bread, Nomi slinked away to the living room, not having touched any ingredient or single kitchen utensil.

Kala rolled her eyes affectionately, and tutted in mock disapproval at Nomi’s retreating form.

In the two hours it took to prepare dinner, Nomi was gone for more than half of it. She apologised to Kala when she walked back into the kitchen, and grabbed some plates and utensils from the cupboard to begin setting up the table.

They ate dinner in companionable silence, with the occasional quips between Lito and Nomi making Kala giggle behind mouthfuls of pasta.

* * *

After clearing the table and washing up the dishes, they retreated to the living room, lounging around on the sofa and eating tiramisu. Lito flicked through the channels on the television lazily, and settled on an obscure soap opera. Kala tried to follow along, reading the subtitles and actually becoming interested in the storyline.

Nomi wasn’t paying attention at all, preferring instead to be on her laptop. She occasionally typed, but mostly was scrolling down the screen, by what Kala could see from reflection of the page on her glasses.

During an advertisement break, Kala gathered their empty bowls and cups, rinsing them briefly before placing them in the dishwasher. When she sat back down, her phone lit up with an interesting notification. A little puzzled, she opened the email and read the first few words - deciding that if it was work related, she would ignore it until tomorrow.

Her eyes widened with each passing line of text, her jaw slack with bewilderness and disbelief. She had no idea what was going on.

_  
Kala, of course you can take the week off. Go ahead and take an extra few days as well. Navya’s reading from behind my shoulder and she says you of all people need this break. Though I must admit, it’s a little late notice. How come you didn’t speak to me about it? Work has been all over the place lately, so I do understand the position you were in. You were probably planning this trip for a while. Fortunately we’re on top of R &D thanks to you and your team, so you have nothing to worry about. I’ll let them know about your leave. Berlin is wonderful this time of year._

_Take care and safe travels,_

_Rajan Rasal  
_ _CEO Rasal Pharmaceuticals_

   
“Nomi.” Kala’s voice was clipped, and she was a little gratified when Nomi flinched a little at her tone.

Nomi looked up from her screen. “Yeah?” She replied gingerly.

Kala tried to speak as evenly as she could. “Why is Rajan replying to an email I never sent him? And why is he talking about me going to Berlin?”

“Well…” She had the grace to look sheepish, though Kala could see excitement bubbling underneath it all.

Kala looked at her pointedly. “Did you have anything to do about this?”

“Uh…maybe?” Nomi shrugged, a hopeful grin on her face.

“Nomi.” Kala wanted to drop this game, and the exasperation in her voice was enough for Nomi to breathe deeply before she spoke.

“Okay. Okay,” Nomi sighed in resignation. “I may or may not have used your work email to request a week’s vacation off.”

Kala balked at her. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all.” Nomi shook her head.

“When?!” The franticness of her tone broke Lito’s focus on the television, and he muted the volume to listen in.

“When you were making us dinner,” Nomi explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I was going to do it from my laptop, but yours was already on, so.”

Kala held up a reproachful finger, her hand shaking slightly as she tried to make sense of it all. “You hacked into my computer?”

“Technically it’s not hacking since you have the same password for everything.” As if that made it okay? Kala was livid. “Also, your firewall system is so weak. I hope you don’t mind that I upgraded it.” Nomi looked up at her properly. “By the way, when was the last time you checked for virus and malware?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, the IT maintenance staff at the company do routine checks every six months.”

“Hm,” Nomi pursed her lips. “I think it’ll benefit you greatly to do them more often. You have so much data on your laptop that—

“Nomi. Please.” Kala held out both hands to stop Nomi in her tracks. There were too many things happening at once. She needed to tackle them one at a time. “Can we just—”

Lito stared at them, his forehead creased and mouth curved into a frown. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh don’t worry about anything. I just booked your flights and accommodation.” Nomi gave them a thumbs-up. “But I haven't placed a check out date.” She winked at Kala. “In case you wanted to shack it up with lover boy at his place. I didn’t want to presume.”

Kala lost count of how many times she felt mortified in the last ten minutes alone. “Excuse me-”

“And I’ve already looked it up,” Nomi continued. “Berlin has the same weather as Chicago right now. Kind of.” She dismissed it with a wave. “It’s a little colder there, but it’s summer all the same.”

“You have got to stop organising these trips for me. And stop paying for them,” Kala pleaded. She didn’t know how to repay her, knowing full well Nomi was just going to transfer back the money if she sent it.

“Think of it as an early wedding present from me.” Nomi grinned, added a cheeky wink for good measure. “You’re welcome.”

Kala swallowed uneasily. “Nomi.” She tried not to picture it happening in her head. She really tried. But her traitorous imagination couldn’t help itself. Mrs Kala Bogda-

No. Stop it.

“Kala. You said it yourself. You miss Wolfgang. You haven’t seen him in six freaking months. And most importantly, Rajan and Navya are right: you need a break from work. This is the perfect chance to see him, too. That’s all.” Nomi nodded encouragingly.

Kala took a few moments to consider Nomi’s words. Despite the grandiosity of it all, the shock of it all, Nomi had the best intentions. Nomi watched her carefully, waiting in anticipation for her verdict. And she supposed it wouldn’t be such a bad idea if both Rajan and Navya agreed, too.

Kala sighed. Nomi bounced excitedly in her seat, like she sensed the gears turning in Kala’s head, and knew what she decided.

“You better pack soon, though.”

“Why?” Kala wondered. “When’s my flight?”

Nomi smiled by way of apology. “Tomorrow afternoon.”

“What?!”


	2. It's What Family's For (part two)

Kala stood at the foot of her bed, her favourite white suitcase splayed open in front of her, and a heaping pile of clothes ungracefully tossed in the middle of her mattress. Her mind was racing, so many thoughts running through, so many voices yelling at her ( _She’s finally going to see Wolfgang_ , screamed one. H _ow did Nomi manage to do this under her nose?_  said another.  _Better change your password again_ ).

She didn’t even register what she was throwing into her suitcase, only grabbing the closest items within her reach, not at all bothered to fold them properly.

Lito’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “You’re not going to bring those pants, are you?”

Kala lifted the item up to her eyes, taking in for the first time what she held in her hand. She took a moment to inspect it before turning to him. He stood just outside of her bedroom door. “What’s wrong with them?” she asked somewhat defensively. It happened to be her favourite pair of pants.

Lito thought otherwise. He scrunched his nose in distaste. “They’re so…yellow.”

“Okay, then.” Kala rolled her eyes and threw the pants to the far side of the bed. She poked and prodded at the pile without care. “Which one?”

Lito pointed at a pair of light-wash denim jeans. “That one.”

She grabbed it, and was about to pick up a bright-red paisley shirt when Lito stopped her. “Not that top.”

Kala crossed her arms stubbornly, shifting her weight to one side as she stared him down. Lito sighed. “Hermosa, come on. Work with me.”

Kala raised a challenging eyebrow. “Why don’t you come here and help me, then?”

He walked over to her, reaching for the chartreuse camisole from the pile, folding it neatly before placing it inside the suitcase. “Long-distance relationships are such tragically beautiful things.” He was eyeing a piece of clothing as he spoke. “I don’t know how you and Wolfgang have managed it for six months.”

Kala stayed quiet, now refolding all the pieces she threw in before. The last thing she wanted was creases in her clothes. Lito didn’t seem to mind. “I go crazy when Hernando and I are away from each other even for a few days.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

They both turned at the sound of Nomi’s voice. She was leaning against the doorframe, her laptop screen open and clutched tightly against her chest.

Lito tilted his head quizzically. “Where is that from?”

“Charlie Brown,” Nomi replied. She walked over to them, sat down on what free space she found on Kala’s bed.

“Ah.” He nodded in acceptance. He was in deep thought for a while before he spoke again, “You know, a very romantic man once said: the scariest thing about distance is you don’t know if they’ll miss you or forget about you.”

“Lito!” Nomi gaped at him, her head shaking wildly as she mouthed no.

“What? Nicholas Sparks is a very romantic man.” Lito continued, “And it’s true. That’s what makes long-distance relationships terrible.”

Kala felt something drop in her stomach. She suddenly felt sick. “Oh.” She looked down at her messy suitcase, hands curling into fists and bunching up the fabric in her hands.

“Lito, that’s not why I yelled at you.” Nomi scolded.

“It happened with Hernando, in his previous relationship. And it has happened to me. I’ve never trusted long distance relationships. I don’t know how Daniela and Felix are managing it, to be honest.”

“Lito.” She snapped at him one last time. “Stop talking.”

“Fuck,” Lito gulped, finally understanding what Nomi was trying to imply. “Kala, I’m sorry.”

Kala’s eyes were still downcast, her posture crumpled as if she wanted nothing more than to disappear. “You don’t think…” she mumbled. She couldn’t bear to finish that sentence, too afraid to hear the words come out of her own mouth.

She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to collect herself.  _What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like-_

Nomi’s voice cut through the silence. “Think what, honey?” she asked softly.

Kala cleared her throat. Just say it. _"_ You don’t think that Wolfgang is seeing someone else.” Her voice shook a little, and she could feel tears spring in her eyes. “Do you?”

Nomi’s eyes softened. “No. Of course not.” She balanced her laptop with one hand and reached out to place the other on Kala’s arm in a gesture of comfort.

The coldness of her palm shocked Kala, raising goosebumps along her skin. She shifted, Nomi’s arm falling back to her lap. “How do you know?” She asked dejectedly. “We’re not dating. Well. When I told him I was going to visit Berlin, he seemed to want the same. But that was months ago, and it’s not like it went anywhere. It would be perfectly within his rights to see other people, right?”

She stopped her rambling for a few seconds to see Nomi and Lito looking at her with concern on their features. Not wanting them to feel sorry for her, she straightened her spine and continued, “We talk. But I mean, we haven’t talked about this thing between us. So maybe he thinks we’re just friends? And I’m totally fine with being friends with Wolfgang—”

“Kala,” Nomi sighed. “Honestly. If that man isn’t at least halfway in love with you after that seriously hot fake date vacation in India, then he’s either lying to himself, or he’s insane.” She tried for light humour, which Kala appreciated. But they both knew, from the grimace on their faces, that it didn’t help.

Nomi turned to her laptop again, and this time when she looked up at Kala, there was a shift in her mood. “If it helps, you are literally the only contact on Wolfgang’s phone that he talks to.”

Kala heard a few more clicks.

“Well. That, and Felix.” Nomi thought for a second and shook her head, waving one hand dismissively. “But Felix doesn’t really count because they’re practically brothers.”

“You did not just access Wolfgang’s phone data from your laptop.” Kala felt the urge to pinch herself, to see whether or not this was real. But it must be. There was no way even her mind could dream of such a scenario.

Nomi raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Hey, I didn’t say it. You did.”

“Nomi.”

“What?” She shrugged. “It’s what family’s for.”

“Oh my god.”

“But now you know that he’s not seeing or talking to anyone else,” she explained.

“We don’t know that,” Lito spoke for the first time since his soliloquy.

Nomi hummed thoughtfully, and turned back to Kala. “Say the word and I’ll search for the most used name in all of his conversations. It’ll take, like, two minutes maximum.”

Kala massaged her temple, hoping the press of her fingers would dull the sharp pain. “Stop. This is wrong.”

Nomi sighed, folded the laptop screen closed and placed it on the floor. “You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Kala said with a small voice, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes as she did.

“So, you’re fine with never seeing Wolfgang again after that week in India?” Nomi asked skeptically.

Kala remained silent, her chest clenching again at the thought of that.  _Of never seeing Wolfgang again._

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Kala shook her head. “What if he doesn’t react well to me coming to Berlin?” Sha gnawed on her bottom lip, still a little anxious about it all.

“Then we’ll fly to Berlin and kick his ass.” She couldn’t help but smile at that, tears springing up in her eyes as the emotions from tonight finally overwhelmed her. “No one messes with our Kala. Right, Lito?”

“Hermosa, I-I shouldn’t have said those things.” Lito ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Yes, I might be bitter and dramatic about long-distance relationships. But that is my experience. It shouldn’t take away from your own. Especially if it is a step towards your happiness.”

Nomi nodded. “Trust us, Kala. He’ll be happy. And you will be, too.”

“Okay.”

She believed them.

* * *

They stayed up all night with her, helped her fold the rest of her clothes (Kala thought she saw Nomi and Lito tuck a few smaller pieces in between the free space of the suitcase, but she paid it no mind), lent her a hand to clean her apartment so she didn’t leave it a mess for the next week. It was around three in the morning when they gathered in the living room and sat down on the couch, a little worn out, but mostly giddy with excitement.

Sometime between talking about what she planned to do in Berlin, and whether or not she had _other_ plans with Wolfgang (Kala was quick to shut Nomi down on that one), they fell asleep, tangled together on the sofa as early morning cartoons played quietly on the television.

* * *

She couldn’t sleep on the flight - an eight-hour direct journey over the Atlantic - preferring to do some light work on her tablet, or watch movies, or look out the window next to her seat. She admired the clouds, condensed tufts of water vapour that floated in the atmosphere, but were beautiful nonetheless as the sun peeked from behind them. For the most part, the flight went smoothly, albeit the passenger in front of her kept reclining their seat and taking up the already limited space Kala occupied.

When the pilot announced they were about to make their descent, Kala turned her reading light off, tucked away her tablet, and craned her head to see as much as she could of Berlin from above. It was breathtaking. The streetlights and buildings illuminated the city, though Kala noticed one side of the city was brighter than the other.

The layout of the streets themselves reminded her of dendrites extending from the cell body of a neuron in the hippocampus, the occasional blinking lights becoming firing synapses during brain activity. She appreciated that, in a way imparting an impression of herself in Berlin for the next week - leaving in people’s minds a memory of her, no matter how small.

Deciding that was going to be her final work-related thought for the week, she relaxed against her seat and closed her eyes, shuffling a little to get comfortable, stretching her legs to get blood pumping through. She felt the plane lower closer and closer to the ground, smiled to herself when the wheels touched the runway of Tegel Airport.

* * *

As soon as her back hit the comfortable mattress in her hotel room, Kala felt fatigued. She took her time inspecting her hotel room before unpacking her suitcase, then arranging her toiletries in the bathroom. At least she felt somewhat refreshed after the quick hot shower she had.

She debated whether or not to let Wolfgang know. Know that she was in Berlin - his city. It wouldn’t take much effort: her phone was charging on the bedside table to her left, a mere arm’s length away. All she had to do was roll to her side and reach out.

But she couldn’t even move. Her eyelids were heavy, threatening to close on their own volition, and Kala did nothing to keep them open. She gave in to her exhaustion, her body sinking into the mattress, head pushing deeper into the pillow. She tightened the covers over her body and sighed, her slight guilt for not telling Wolfgang steadily fading away. She wanted to see the expression on his face when they see each other tomorrow afternoon.

For now, she would sleep.

Berlin will be there when she wakes.


	3. Here in Berlin

Kala bounced her legs nervously as she sat in the passenger’s seat of her uber driver’s car. She turned her head sideways and admired the view: a blur of shopfronts, the bustle of tourists and locals alike as they enjoyed the sunshine.

It wasn’t something she hadn’t seen before (she had her fair share of busy cities - Mumbai and Chicago), but it was all new at the same time. Berlin.

For about the hundredth time, she looked at the address on her phone that Nomi sent her a few hours ago. Comparing it to the map and the directions displayed on the car’s navigation system, she took a deep breath and began to prepare herself for what was to come.

She was only a few minutes away from seeing him again.

The car slowed down, the monotonous tone of the navigation system alerting that they had arrived at their destination, and Kala’s heart leapt in her chest. _Not yet._ She had to remind herself to remain seated until the driver actually pulled to a stop.

She got out of the car, bidding her uber driver goodbye as he drove away. She smoothed the wrinkles on her dress, smiling at the blue and green flower pattern of the fabric. She stood outside the small building, the word ‘Schlüsseldienst’ in big font displayed on the glass window. Below was a picture of a silver key, laying over a yellow circle outlined in red, and then ‘Felix Berner’ a few inches under it.

 _My friend and I run a locksmith business_ , Kala recalled him telling her family at her father’s restaurant, the morning after their late evening arrival in Mumbai.

She tried to look through the glass, could see the faint silhouette of drawers and an assortment of keys mounted on a wall frame. After another few seconds of peering in, she saw a flash of blond hair disappear to the back room. _Wolfgang._ She crossed the few steps towards the front door, wondered why it was covered with blinds. Her hand twisted the door handle...

But she couldn't make herself walk in.

She let the handle go, stepped back a little and tried to get her thoughts in order. _Why was she nervous?_ She berated herself. They had already met, spent a week together in Mumbai, shared the same bed (well, there was a line of pillows in the middle for the most part - but it was the same bed, regardless). They had already kissed (she tried not to dwell on that too much at the moment), already held hands, had one night tangled together in their sleep.

Why was she nervous?

She didn't know how long she stood there, only deducing that it must have been a while after a few women passing by approached her and asked if she was okay. God, they probably thought she was being weird, or lost. She nodded, grateful for their kindness, and they waved her a good day. Looking at the shopfront one last time, she took a deep breath.

“Alright,” she mumbled under her breath. “Here we go.”

She pushed the door open, winced at the sound of chiming bells being drowned out by the loud buzzing of a machine. She closed the door carefully behind her, the shop becoming dim from the sunshine being blocked out by the blinds, and the lights not being on. The only source of light was from the glass window, but even the logo displayed on it casted shadows on the floor.

When she turned her head to the side, she saw a small frame hanging on the wall. In it was a faded photograph of two boys, both of whom looked no older than ten years old. Their arms were slung over each other’s shoulders, their faces lit up as they looked at the camera. The shorter one, whose hair was more blond than the other, had an impish smile on his face.

Kala lifted one hand up and skimmed her fingers over the photograph, her lips quirking up into a small smile as she recognised Wolfgang. Her eyes settled on the taller boy, who she assumed was Felix, who wore a skinny tie tucked messily under the collar of his shirt - the colour palette of his clothes a stark contrast to the black and greys little Wolfgang wore. _Which was not too far off from Wolfgang now_ , she thought.

She heard a muffled voice from the back room, which got more and more clear as the person speaking walked towards the front of the shop. And then he was there. Wolfgang, looking equal parts excited and exhausted, but with a bravado that never really seemed to go away. He was on the phone. Kala caught the words ‘Felix’ and ‘Tegel’ somewhere in the rapid pacing of the conversation, made a mental note to add German to the list of languages she wanted to learn.

He kept walking back and forth from behind the counter, to the work desk offset to the side, somewhat hidden behind the tall drawers and stacks of crates. After he ended the call, he settled to stand behind the counter.  She stayed where she was, a shy breath away from the front door. Her gaze swept down carefully on his frame, reacquainting herself with details that she last saw in person six months ago. She noticed that he cut his hair, but when he turned around to grab something, she saw the stubborn cowlicks that refused to cooperate no matter how hard he tried (no matter how many times she ran her fingers through them). He also recently shaved, the stubble on the perimeter of his face lighter than the dark shadow she was used to. When he bent down to lift a metal box, her eyes widened a little at the sight of his muscles, tensing under the heavy weight as he settled the box on top of the counter. He opened the box. She assumed he was looking for something.

Kala blinked herself out of her reverie. Tentatively, she stepped forward, knocked softly on one of the crates to get his attention.

Wolfgang didn't look up as he acknowledged her, a string of German in that low rumble of his that made her stomach clench. He kept digging through the box, contents clanging loudly as he pushed them aside impatiently.

Her nose scrunched in confusion at his words. He must have thought she was a customer. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Fräulein—”

He looked up, a mildly irritated look on his face for being disturbed, which froze as soon as he saw her.

Whatever apprehension Kala had left at seeing Wolfgang unannounced, were washed away by the way his jaw went slack. By the way his eyes widened in evident shock. By the way his hands loosened, and whatever object was in his palm dropped carelessly back inside the box.

“Hi,” she spoke after an eon of silence.

Wolfgang gulped, and his nervousness somewhat eased Kala. At least it wasn't just her that felt this way - that jolt of anticipation, that hanging on a precipice. Waiting to see who would make the first move.

They stirred at the same time. He slowly walked out from behind the counter, blue eyes never leaving hers as she made her way towards him. _Four more steps._ Kala held out her arms, the tips of her fingers grazing the points of Wolfgang’s elbows, his arms stiff and glued to his sides.

At her touch, Wolfgang placed his hands on her waist. His hands moved carefully - _reverently_ \- up and down the length of her body. “Hi…” he trailed off, unsure. “You’re here?”

“Yes.” She nodded, a smile gracing her lips. “I’m here.”

He tugged her closer to him, and Kala’s hands glided smoothly over his arms to wrap them around his neck.

He lowered his head to hers, stopping just a few inches away to look into her eyes. Then, he traced the path from her nose down to her lips, his tongue darted out to lick his own. Kala was mesmerised.

“I didn’t think you would—”

She pulled him down by the neck, leaned up to close the space between them. The contact was light, soft at first, before his lips melted against hers. A couple beats passed before she drew back slightly, their foreheads leaning against each other. She hummed dreamily. She was here. With him. It was real.

He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Kala saw the way his throat moved when he swallowed. She followed his gaze, the tip of her nose brushing against his chin. “Fuck,” he breathed out, sounding incredulous, in awe.

Indeed. She giggled, but the sound was stuck in her throat when she saw the way his jaw tightened at the sound. She resisted the urge to press kisses along the line of his jaw - feeling lightheaded at the thought of something as simple as her laugh making him react this way.

He tipped his head down to look at her. “When did you get here? To Berlin?” He asked, tone still disbelieving.

“Last night.”

He shook his head before capturing her lips one more time, his mouth demanding against hers, so unlike the soft kiss they shared minutes ago. She responded in kind, a small gasp escaping her as his tongue darted out and licked along the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth to him, and they kissed _and kissed and kissed_ until she had to pull away.

He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, their chests brushing against each other’s as they tried to catch their breaths.

For a moment, she just stared at him. The bright blue of his eyes receding to a thin ring as his pupils dilated, and she knew the deep brown in her eyes were the same. She removed her arms from his neck to wrap them around his torso, rested her forehead against his chest.

“I missed you,” she whispered. She felt his hold on her tighten by a fraction as she spoke. She smiled openly, though he couldn’t see her.

He dropped his face to crook of her neck, breathed in her scent, then pressed slow kisses on the skin there.

“Me too,” he said in an equally soft voice. He nipped softly at her pulse point, soothed the area with a small lick.

Kala gasped loudly at the ministrations, her palms flattened against the center of his back. She arched her back and tilted her head up, exposing more of her skin to Wolfgang’s lips.  She could feel him grin against her neck. He peppered kisses across her throat, moving his head to the other side of her neck and repeating the action. She let out a breathy sigh, one hand running her fingers up his spine and through his hair.

She really missed him.

She tugged on the strands lightly, making Wolfgang grunt in surprise. His hands dropped from caressing her waist, to smoothing over the curve of her ass. Without warning, he gripped her flesh tight, kneading it with his hands.

Kala inhaled sharply. She pulled away from him, her arms bracing against his chest to place distance between them. She suddenly remembered where they were. Her face felt warm as heat rose up to her cheeks, her legs slightly trembling. Her body tingled where Wolfgang roamed his hands.

“Wolfgang, you’re at work!”

He scoffed. “And?” His arms reached out once more to bracket her waist, and she held on to his forearms, pushed them back down to his sides.

“Wolfgang,” she scolded. “A customer could walk in at any time.” She let go of him and crossed her arms, looking behind her shoulder cautiously and saw an endless amount of people walk by the glass window.

“Suesse.” She turned to him, puzzled at the endearment, and he stepped closer to her.  He uncrossed her arms and slid his hands over her hips. “You’re the second person that’s walked in today.”

Her fingers traced the veins up his arm, hands grabbing on to his shoulders tightly. “But-but,” she stammered. He grinned.

Her eyes widened in panic, her brain struggling to find an excuse for her not to give in to her desire. He leaned in for a kiss, the proximity of their lips making her dizzy, but she drew back at the last second. She bit the inside of her cheek at the low growl he emitted.

With her thoughts barely collected, she said, “You were in the middle of doing something. You should finish it.”

He smirked devilishly. “I could close early.” She gave him a long-suffering look. He merely shrugged. “What? Felix won’t know. He doesn’t return from Mexico until tomorrow.”

“Wolfgang. We have a whole week.” She blushed at the heated look in his face, his eyes burning intensely, but she held her ground. “It’s fine. I’ll stay here and watch you.”

His smirk deepened. “You’re going to sit here and watch me make keys?”

“Yes,” she said as a matter of fact. “I’ve always wanted to know how they’re made.”

He must have known from her tone that she wasn’t joking, because he pecked her chastely on the lips before letting her go. He went to the back room for a few seconds, came back carrying a swivelling desk chair in his arms, and planted it next to his own in front of the work desk. She thanked him and sat down, content to silently watch him do his work. Here and there, he would explain what he was doing, which Kala listened to with genuine interest.

Twenty minutes into his task, Wolfgang sighed, annoyed at something. Kala was about to ask if she could help with anything, but stopped when he rolled the sleeves of his shirt further up his arm to try and get more range of motion, the fabric almost unable to stretch around the bulge of his biceps. She cleared her throat and looked away. She should let him work. It was her idea in the first place. And she should also stop being distracted by him.

She whisked her head back at the sound of his low chuckle and she flushed, embarrassed. She tried to divert the situation by asking, “How can you work in here?”

Wolfgang raised an eyebrow, obviously not falling for her tactic. But she continued, “It’s so dark. And gloomy.”

He indulged her. “I’m used to it,” he chuckled again.

“But it’s such a beautiful day. You should let some light in,” she suggested. “Or at least, turn the lights on,” she added after a beat.  

He said nothing, just stared at her with an amused smile as she stood up to find the lightswitch in the small room. When she finally found it, she turned to him expectantly. “May I?”

He nodded, and she flicked the switch on. “There!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together as the colours in the room became much more vibrant. “Isn’t that better?”

He gave her a warm smile.

“Much better.”


	4. Pieces of His Life (part one)

"I want to go see the Berlin Wall.” That was the first thing Kala said to him this morning when he picked her up from her hotel. He agreed, because really, he had no reason to say otherwise.

It was her second day in the city, and Wolfgang has somewhat recovered from the shock of seeing her after six months of talking only online and through text. Last night, he couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. His brain was still reeling from the fact that she was here. In Berlin. With him. He laughed to himself, shook his head at the ceiling. And he begged to whoever had the patience to listen to him that when he woke up the next day, he wouldn't have to be subjected to it all being a dream. He didn't think he could handle that.

Ever since she said she was going to visit him, in their final moment together at the airport all those months ago, that was all he could think about. He found himself thinking about what they would do during her visit. If they were going to go sightseeing. If they were going to do nothing but stay in bed all day - he spent a lot of nights imagining that, with a raging hard-on and a painstaking arousal that he tried not to give in to like a horny teenager, though his resolve never lasted long. But never did he thought it would actually happen. To him, no less.

He thought about the conversation that followed their reunion in the shop, after he finished his work for the day.

_“Yes...? You're staring.”_

_Wolfgang blinked furiously, realised what he was doing and sent her an apologetic grimace. He wondered when she would disappear from his eyes. If this was all an illusion._

_“How-?” He felt stupid and incoherent. But nothing else came to mind._

_“Nomi, actually,” she answered with a smile. “She booked everything for me yesterday. Although I suspect she's been planning this for over a week.” She flushed a little, which made him curious. “She hacked into my email and requested vacation time from work.” He wanted to meet this Nomi woman. Tell her thank you for making this all happen. “Rajan and Navya said I deserved this break. They have been really understanding at work. Rajan especially.”_

_Wolfgang tightened his jaw in anger at hearing that._

_“Rajan.”_

_(When he first heard that name, Wolfgang thought Will and Riley were joking. Who the fuck was named Rajan? Then again, his own name wasn't any better. He didn't even know why they asked him, of all people, to be this woman’s fake boyfriend for a week. He didn't do relationships. Will knew that. Riley knew that. He made that clear numerous times, when they'd drop by his place if Riley had a set in Berlin, and they bumped into whoever was his fuck for that night as they were leaving his apartment. Once, Riley sat down on the corner of his mattress, and told him, “This isn't good for you. All this casual sex. Maybe this fake dating thing could be what you need.” Wolfgang scoffed, continued to blow out smoke from his cigarette towards the ceiling. Of course it wasn't good for him. He had his fair share of being told about pregnancy scares, or that gripping thought that maybe he'd contracted a disease and unknowingly spread it around - thankfully he didn't, he checked to make sure. But it felt good. To release the tension inside him. How else was he supposed to?_

_Riley looked at him with a motherly disappointment. Wolfgang resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn't want to admit it, but she had a good point._

_“Kala.” Riley told him the woman’s name. And he liked the way it sounded. “She used to see Rajan. Two years ago. It was a complicated thing. He was head over heels, but it wasn't the same for her. Her parents loved him though, said he was a brilliant man. So she kept seeing him. Until he asked her to marry him.” Wolfgang felt something in his chest, an unsettling elation that he couldn't be bothered trying to understand. She wasn't in love with him. Why the fuck would she marry the guy? So he agreed. Will, who stayed quiet the whole time, was surprised that he didn't object to the idea, which surprised him just as much. He clapped Wolfgang on the back and beamed at him. “Kala’s one amazing woman. You're going to like her.”)_

_And he did. Wolfgang liked her. A lot more than he thought he would. He had little to no expectations, and still, she somehow managed to be more than everything he thought she would be. But the night of the wedding, after that nameless woman tried to get his attention, after he and Kala talked, when Rajan came up to them and asked Wolfgang - not her - for permission to dance…_

_“Really?” That was the understanding and brilliant man?_

_She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes…”_

_He frowned, the crease in his forehead deepening as he held back a sigh. He pushed the chair away from the table, leaned forward in his seat and rested his arms on his legs. He looked down at his feet._

_“Wolfgang? What's wrong?”_

_“Hm?” He replied, eyes still fixed on the scuffs on the front of his shoes._

_“Are you…” she hesitated, trying to find the right word. “Jealous?”_

_He didn't respond. Though, he supposed that only confirmed her suspicions. She got up from her chair and walked towards him, standing just before the tip of his toes. He leaned back, accommodated her to stand in between his legs. He rested his hands on the backs of her knees, and she held on to his shoulders. He stared at the flower pattern of her dress, the blues and greens reminding him of the ocean, and for a moment there, he felt the same contentment he has when he floats above the water. He couldn't help but smile a little._

_“Wolfgang.” He looked up, her deep brown eyes gazing into his. “He's with Navya. We were literally at their wedding.”_

_Again, he said nothing. Kala’s eyes burned with frustration._

_“Rajan and I weren't even really dating. Why does everyone think we were together?” He must have a dubious expression on his face, because she sighed in resignation. “Okay, so he asked me to marry him two years ago. But I didn't feel the same way about him and-”_

_She stopped. Her frustration quickly faded into understanding. “You are jealous.”_

_Wolfgang gulped._

_Her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her fingers danced along the line of his jaw, then grazed his lower lip. He closed his eyes to feel every small movement. He heard the way her breath hitched slightly when he pulled her closer. Memorised the curve of her body as he trailed his hands from the back of her knees up to her waist, and then down to her hips. He opened his eyes._

_It occurred to him what his problem was._

_“I'm no Rajan,” he admitted with a quiet voice. But in the silence of the room, he might as well have screamed it out loud. Either way, it was a harsh truth he had to accept one way or another. He wasn't Rajan Rasal. He wasn't the CEO of a multimillion dollar pharmaceutical company. He would never be called a ‘brilliant’ or an ‘understanding’ man._

_He looked at his hands, gripping tight on her hips, and he loosened his hold on her._

_She had no business being with someone like him,_ even if it was pretend _, he remembered saying through clenched teeth. He was not a good person. He told her that much after that wretched disaster of a rehearsal dinner. Where her uncle and the man sat next to him badgered him about his father - about his life._

_He was no Rajan._

_But with the stubbornness he recognised in her that very same night - when she told him with a conviction in her voice that she couldn't feel this way about him if she thought he was a bad person - she shook her head._

_“No. You're not. You-” she ran her fingertips across his lips again “-are Wolfgang Bogdanow.” He never liked the sound of his last name until he heard her say it now. “And I very much like you. I like being with you.”_

_His heart jumped to his throat._

He decided then, that it didn't matter what she wanted to do. He was going to make most of his time with her, instead of wallowing in his doubts, drowning in his self-hatred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to PreRaphaelites for introducing me to Pablo Neruda's works. this fic is inspired by his 'Cien Sonetos de amor' ('From 100 Love Sonnets') piece XVII:
> 
> No te amo como se fueras rosa de sal, topacio  
> o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
> 
> (I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz  
> or an arrow of carnations that propagate fire:)


	5. Pieces of His Life (part two)

His hand brushed against hers as they walked side by side along the pathway. He stuffed both hands in his pockets, his shoulders tensed up in an awkward squeeze before he relaxed them. He sighed. He wanted to grab her hand in his, wanted to feel the softness her palm. But he didn't know how to without making her uncomfortable. He was aware of his...excited behaviour yesterday afternoon. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel scrutinised by everyone else in the area. Though in Mumbai, she didn't seem to mind his spontaneous hand holding. _Fucking hell_ , he berated himself. Where did all his confidence from Mumbai runoff to? His confidence from yesterday? His pulse was beating faster than normal, and he felt hot under the collar of his shirt, though it had nothing to do with the sun shining down on them through faint clouds. He was nervous.

He settled to teasing her. It was comfortable. Familiar.

“I thought you liked science.” He bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. “I was going to take you to the Science Center Spectrum,” he joked, then wondered if she would take offense.

She nudged him back, her lips breaking into a warm smile as she replied, “I like history, too. But I'd be happy to go anywhere.” She paused, then added, “Besides, it's your city. I want to know as much I can about it. About you.”

He turned over her words in his mind, humming absentmindedly after a few moments when he realised he didn’t respond. They stopped in front of a section of the Wall, spray painted in faded graffiti.

He was reminded of how different they were: from the most basic of things like their appearance and their way of life; to the most personal of things like how she was only ever surrounded by the people she loved and who loved her back, while he could count the people on his with one hand. (That number was steadily growing, which he wasn't sure he was ever going to be accustomed to. But now he didn't feel so alone.)

“Wolfgang?” She turned to him.

He had no childhood memories of going to the markets. No culinary trips sampling food to compare with his mother or father’s cooking. He certainly had no extravagant yacht cruises to take her on, unless she wanted to sail down the Spree, then that could be arranged. Wolfgang realised he wouldn't be able to reciprocate even half of the experiences she shared with him in her beloved Mumbai. But he could offer her this: pieces of his life that he swore he would never reveal to anyone, because he thought no one would be able to understand. The one other person who knew his life, who lived almost the exact same way - Felix, was there for him and had his back the entire time. And Wolfgang didn't want pity.

Looking into Kala’s eyes now, though, he saw nothing but kindness. It wasn't patronising in the way he saw from his neighbours in the various houses he lived in growing up. But it was genuine in the way that held no prejudice about him.

The words came easier than he expected. “I was only a year old when the wall came down. But we couldn’t get out straight away.” The moment seemed distant, far back enough that the fine details were hazy, but it was his reality.

“You lived on the other side?”

He nodded. “They waited until I was eight years old. In those days,” he swallowed, then continued, “after we moved from East to West Berlin, I was the kid everyone hated.”

_The day before his twelfth birthday, Wolfgang and Felix walked through the eerily silent courtyard of their school, after spending the day trying to break into classrooms and offices. They were almost caught by the janitor, but they ran out as fast as they could - only stopped to catch their breaths and slow their pace once they were outside of the building. Felix cracked a joke, something about their principal being an absolute arschloch, and their laughs echoed down the area._

_Then they heard several footsteps approaching behind them. Wolfgang stopped, turned, and watched as a familiar face from the year level above his led a group of four other boys. They grinned at Wolfgang and Felix menacingly._

_“Bogdanow,” the boy at the front said with a sneer._

_“Meyer.”_

_Felix cleared his throat. “Don't.” He pulled on Wolfgang’s shoulder. “Come on, Wolfie. Let's go.”_

_He turned his head slightly to look at Felix, gave him a little nod. He was about to walk away when Meyer spoke again._

_“I know what you are. Fucking Commie.” He spat, and Wolfgang curled his hands into fists at the insult._

_Meyer didn't notice. He looked to Felix, scoffed at him. “Why do you even hang out with him, Berner? You're better off without this.”_

_Felix glared back. “Crom laughs at your four winds. He laughs from his mountain.”_

_“The fuck are you saying, Berner?” One of the boys asked, and they all looked to Felix, dumbfounded._

_Wolfgang smirked. Conan._

_“Fools,” Felix muttered. “For us, there is no spring. Just the wind that smells fresh before the storm.”_

_“What? I'm on your side.” Meyer shook his head disdainfully. “Sag mal bist du behindert?” Are you retarded or something?_

_That did it. Wolfgang lunged forward and made to swing at Meyer, but Felix held him back._

_Meyer stepped away, holding his arms out to refrain the other boys from charging at them. “You're stupid, Berner. But you're one of us. So I won't hit you,” he smirked. Then added, “Today.”_

_The threat to Felix alarmed Wolfgang. “Felix. Go.”_

_“I'm not going to leave you-”_

_“Don't.” He repeated Felix’s words. “Just go.”_

_He watched as Felix ran away, glad that at least he wouldn't be involved in this._

_Meyer smirked, and gestured for the other boys to surround Wolfgang. “My father said your kind is costing us billions in damages. For the war. For the wall. You're going to fucking pay us back for that. Starting right now.”_

_Wolfgang cracked his neck. “Come and get it.” He dodged the first swing, and pulled his arm back to aim a punch at the side of Meyer’s face. Wolfgang heard a loud crack as his fist made contact with flesh and bone. Then he struck again, this time swinging up towards Meyer’s jaw._

_“Fuck!” Meyer spat out as he staggered back a few steps, a little disoriented. “What are you doing? Hold him still!” He shouted at the others, who stood watching._

_Two of the four boys grabbed hold on each of Wolfgang’s arms, and the other two jeered as Meyer took his time to deliver a swift kick to his stomach. Wolfgang grunted in pain, the force bringing him down to his knees. Meyer kicked him again, and kneed him in the face. Then, he punched him in the nose. Wolfgang felt blood pouring out from there, trickling into his open mouth as he tried to take the pain. The taste made him feel sick. He tried to look up, but he couldn't. His head rolled to the side and back down, he was too weak. Meyer kicked him a third time, and Wolfgang curled his body inwards, tried to brace himself for the fourth kick. But it didn't come._

_The two boys released him, and he fell face first into the gravel. He was breathing heavily, the movement doubling his pain, and he was huffing out specks of blood. He heard the faint noise of something heavy and metallic hitting something, heard a few shouts and the sound of shoes quickly running away. Then, he heard Felix._

_“No one will remember if we were good men or bad. Only that two men stood against many!”_

_A voice shouted back, “Next time, Bogdanow! You'll get what's coming.”_

“But that wasn’t your fault.” Kala's eyes were wide as she looked at the Wall, then up to him.

“It is not that simple.” But he wished it was. He sighed. “If Felix hadn't been there…” He didn't finish the sentence, but he had a feeling Kala knew where it was headed. If Felix hadn't been there then, _fuck_. Wolfgang knew he wouldn't be standing here today.

“That was your childhood?”

He shook his head. His eyes hardened at the memory, and his voice was gruff as he said, “It was worse after school. When I went back to the house. To my father.”

_It was nighttime when he arrived at his own house. Felix insisted they go back to his place, where Aunt Lena fussed over Wolfgang’s cuts and bruises. She had her own qualms about schoolyard fights, but she knew Wolfgang was picked on at school for years for being who he was. For being born into a Russian family. For living in East Germany. They were not his decisions, but it made him, all the same. He couldn't change that about him. She wiped the blood off his face with a stern frown, and at the same time snapped at Felix for getting himself into trouble yet again. She fixed them a quick dinner and gave Wolfgang a new change of clothes, told him it wouldn't be wise to let his father see what he was up to this afternoon. Wolfgang silently agreed._

_He slipped through the front door as quietly as he could, leaving his shoes on the side. He heard the television playing at a loud volume from the living room, and thought his father was asleep. He thought he heard a faint echo of snoring as he walked through the short hallway._

_He was halfway through the living room, about to run the rest of the way into his bedroom, but froze on the spot at the sound of his father’s voice._

_“Where were you?” A snarl._

_Wolfgang looked straight ahead. He couldn't risk turning his face to the side. “Out.”_

_"With who?"_

_Wolfgang resisted the urge to cough. "Felix."_

_"Doing?"_

_He didn't want to see the look on his father's face if he told him the truth. That he and Felix spent the day doing exactly what the Bogdanow men were famed for. He wasn't sure if his father would be disgusted, or worse, proud. He kept his voice even as best he could. "Homework." He hoped his father would believe him, that he didn't know the school term wasn't even starting for two months. He probably didn't. He hoped he didn't._

_“And how was that?”_

_Wolfgang wanted to sigh with relief. “Fine,” His voice was clipped. His father never asked him about what he did. Never even glanced at him whenever he walked past the living room every morning before leaving the house, or in the afternoons. Dinner was almost always in complete silence. He didn't like this sudden change in his father’s behaviour._

_“That's my boy.” The endearment sent his pulse racing. He needed to get out of there. “Go to your room. Night.”_

_Wolfgang turned to him and said a small, “Good night.”_

_That was his first mistake._

_“Wait-”_

_Wolfgang winced. Damn it._

_His father got up from the couch, stumbling a little in his drunken haze. “What the fuck is this?” He pointed the mouth of his beer bottle at Wolfgang’s nose. “You get into a fight?”_

_Wolfgang nodded. There were only five things he needed to know, to master, after all: eating, shitting, drinking, fucking, and fighting for more. The first two, he could do. He had no problems there. The third and fourth, he was still too young for. But he knew he was good at the last one._

_That was his second mistake._

_“And? You let them hit you?” He bent down to look closer at Wolfgang’s bruises. The alcohol from his breath was rancid. Wolfgang held in his breath. “You stood there? Like a fucking pussy?”_

_Apparently, not good enough._

_“Bogdanow men don't take shit from anyone.” His father smashed the beer bottle against the wall, the leftover contents bursting all over the floor. Fragments of glass flew everywhere. Wolfgang shut his eyes at the ringing sound, felt the liquid seeping under his toes._

_Just as Wolfgang opened his eyes, he heard his father scream in a blind rage, and swiped one hand through the air. Wolfgang yelped, clutching his chest as he stepped back. His other hand rose to cover his face, his torso curled forward on instinct. There was searing pain from where his hand pressed on the right side of his chest, and when he drew his hand back, it was stained with blood. His._

_His father held up a thick shard of glass in front of his eyes, then carelessly threw it away. “Fucking pussy. Weak.” He spat on the floor. “Just like your mother.”_

_Wolfgang never cried out in pain after that._

“I think that was the first time.” He took a deep breath, exhaled from his nose, let the anger boiling inside of him dissipate.

Kala didn’t ask him to elaborate, which he was grateful for.

“Did it leave a scar?” Her voice was shaky, and her lip was trembling as if she was holding back a sob.

He looked down at his shirt, pointed at the covered skin just a few inches underneath his right collarbone, directly over the faint jagged line he grew to ignore.

She lifted one hand from her side and rested it above his. Even though it healed over, for a second there, Wolfgang felt that burst of pain when the skin was cut open that very first time. She looked up at him, her eyes wide in question, though he didn't know what she was asking. Wordlessly, she moved their hands down and nuzzled her face against his chest. Then, in the lightest and softest of movements, pressed a kiss to the scar.

He inhaled sharply at the feel of her lips, his heart pounding so loud between them that he was surprised she couldn't hear it. Both his hands came up to bury themselves in the thickness of her curls, kept her face still and close to his chest.

Her eyes widened a little as she tilted her head up again, startled by his reaction. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Wolfgang shook his head. She had nothing to be sorry for. He untangled his fingers from her hair and brought them down to cup the back of her neck, thumbing over the skin of her cheeks gently. He wanted to tell her that the pain was gone, that he couldn't feel anything else other than the warmth of her lips on his skin. But still, he remained silent.

He thought she understood all the words he couldn't say by the way she smiled at him.


	6. What Are We? / Pieces of His Life (part three)

After the Berlin Wall, Wolfgang suggested to drive them to a nearby recreational park for a leisurely walk. Kala agreed, and they stopped at a convenience store to grab some drinks and light snacks. They sat inside his car, with the air-conditioning blasting and the radio on a low volume, careful not to drop stray crumbs from their crisps as they talked about anything and everything. She asked him about Berlin, he asked her about Chicago, and somehow after that the conversation shifted into a silly argument about the validity and effectiveness of spices as a form of self-defence (Kala explained it with as much scientific accuracy as she could, but Wolfgang was vehement about his stance, told her he would believe it if he saw it with his own eyes. She discreetly wrote a memo on her phone to stage an experiment in the laboratory when she goes back to work). Before they knew it, an officer tapped on Wolfgang's window and asked him to either move or get out of the car, as other people needed the space. Kala suppressed a laugh at the sternness of the officer, and Wolfgang promptly stuck his middle finger up at the officer's back as they stalked away.

The drive to the park itself was laden in comfortable silence. Kala looked out the passenger window, continued to admire Berlin and its people, and smiled to herself when Wolfgang turned up the volume on the radio. Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' - she recognised the slow and sustained movement of its opening chords. She swayed her body slowly to the music, restricted only by the seatbelt securing her to the seat. It was a mournful and agonising sound. She could feel the tears welling up in the inner corner of her eyes. As it progressed to the second movement, the hairs on her arms stood up at the beautiful contrast: it evoked a light-hearted, and almost innocent mood. She shut her eyes and breathed deeply, just enjoying the music as it surrounded her from all sides of the car speakers. Just as the second movement transitioned into the fast-paced and powerful third movement, the car pulled into a stop. Wolfgang shifted the car on park and switched the ignition off. A little disappointed at not being able to listen to the full piece, she removed her seatbelt as he did the same. 

Kala turned to him before she opened the passenger side door. "You like classical music?"

"It relaxes me," he said sheepishly. His face turned bright red, with the tips of his ears burning pink in embarrassment. She saved that image in her memory, didn't know when she would see him this flustered again.

"Aww!" She smiled warmly at him, which only made him blush further. 

He coughed awkwardly as he got out of the car, and waited for her to close the door so he could lock it. 

* * *

They took their time walking from the car park, not seeing the point in rushing since they had all the time they needed. Kala spotted a rubbish bin and threw away their empty containers from that small food break not long ago. As they walked, their hands brushed for the second time that day, and from beside her, Wolfgang’s arm stiffened. She wondered why he hadn't held her hand yet, given he was always the first to do so in Mumbai. She turned her head to the side to look at him, but his eyes were trained forward as they moved. Tentatively, she brushed her thumb against his knuckles, lacing their fingers together when he didn't pull away. He took a deep breath before squeezing their palms closed, and he finally looked down at her with a smile.

A few minutes in to being enveloped by the cool breeze and taking in the lush greenery, Kala spotted a couple not much older than them, walking from the opposite direction. The woman looked at her partner dotingly, smiling as the other woman planted a kiss on her lips. "This is my girlfriend!" She pointed at her as the other woman shushed her to be quiet, though they were both laughing in bliss. The people they passed by greeted them with a friendly wave of the hand, and Kala even heard an elderly man say, "Congratulations, dear! I'm happy for the two of you," to which the woman responded with a loud, "Thank you!" They reminded her of Nomi and Amanita, with their infectious energy. She smiled down so much at the pavement that her cheeks started to hurt.

The couple stopped walking as they neared Wolfgang and Kala. The taller of the two held out a hand in gesture to make small talk, then smiled apologetically for disturbing them. "Can I just say you two are such a good-looking couple?" The shorter woman voiced her approval. She beamed at Wolfgang. "Your girlfriend is so beautiful!" Kala bit her lip shyly at the admission. Her heart started beating faster at being referred to as Wolfgang's girlfriend. It quickly reminded her of a conversation she knew she needed to have with him. 

At her silence, Wolfgang spoke up. "Thanks. You and your girlfriend are, too." He nodded at the woman.

"Aren't you a stud," she winked. She took her girlfriend by the hand. "Anyway. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!"

Kala watched as they skipped away, her stomach clenching in nervousness yet again as they laughed without a care in the world. She wanted that: to be able to tell people she was Wolfgang's girlfriend, to laugh with him about absolutely nothing. Technically, she could. They had already shared a moment at the Berlin Wall; albeit it wasn't a very happy moment, but it was a tender one that could be described by an outsider perspective as something along the lines of how a couple would act. But something was holding her back from embracing that. 

She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Wolfgang,” she said with a quiet voice.

The line in the middle of his forehead creased as he looked at her, worried at her change of tone. But he responded with a casual, “Hm?”

“If I ask something that’s inappropriate, will you let me know?” She had a bad habit of doing so: growing up, her father always said she was inquisitive, and if it weren't for her poor timing, she would be getting the answers she needed without some form of hassle.

She tightened her lips into a thin line as she looked at Wolfgang hopefully.

He shrugged. “Of course.”

She nodded, trusting him on his word. She steered them off the pathway, led them to stand behind a row of bushes to get a sense of privacy.

She looked down at their clasped hands. “It seems a little wrong for me to ask this, especially after you telling me about your father-” There it was, that poor timing. She shut her eyes in frustration. _God, Kala._ She wished she could take those words back, wished she could rewind the time so she could think more critically about her words and actions. “Actually, never mind. This was very tactless of me.” She made another mental note to improve on it next time. She ignored that voice in her said that whispered, _If there even is a next time._

He took her chin in his free hand and tipped it back up, their eyes meeting as he shook his head reassuringly. “It’s fine. I wanted to tell you.” The blue of his eyes looks even brighter in the outdoors, with the afternoon sun illuminating slight grey flecks in them that Kala never noticed before. “Go on.”

“Okay,” she took a fortifying breath, exhaled through her nose slowly. How could she even say it?

_“Do you like me?” No that sounded too needy, and of course he liked her. She knew that much._

_“How would you say this dynamic between us metastasised over the past six months?” Okay, that was inherently worse than the other one. First of all, it was too verbose. Second of all, she was neither hypothesising the results of an experiment, nor writing a thesis. Third of all, “metastasise”? Ugh._

He squeezed their palms together once more, and that was enough to give her the courage she desperately needed.

She looked around the area, not quite taking anything in. She supposed there was no other way to put it. “What are we?” She winced slightly at her wording, thought the delivery was a little too curt, so she followed her question with a soft, “I’m sorry, that sounded harsher than I intended it to be.”

“What do you mean?” He angled his head, confused.

She let go of his hand and gestured to the space between them. “Are we dating? Or are we just friends? Though I don’t know what kind of friends occasionally kiss. Or cross a major body of water for the other, or take the other as a fake date to their ex’s wedding, or-”

She stopped to take a breath, and she collected her thoughts in an effort to reduce her anxious rambling. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to confuse this, confuse you and I.”

“Suesse.” He cupped the underside of her jaw, sliding his hands to the back of her neck, fingers sinking slightly into the curls at the nape. “Aren’t we?”

 _Huh?_ She held on to his wrists on either side of her face, stroked the back of his hands with both thumbs. She looked at him with searching eyes.

“I thought we were. Dating, I mean.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mouth gaping a little. She closed it, and it dropped open again. An uncharacteristic squeak was torn from her in place of actual words. She wanted to say something - anything - but nothing came to mind.

“Y-you...do?” She managed to stutter out. She licked her lips to soothe the sudden dryness, noted the way his eyes tracked the movement.

He glanced back up at her. “Shouldn’t I? Are you uncomfortable?” The crease in his forehead deepened, and he made to pull away.

Her eyes widened a fraction as she tightened her grip on his wrists. “No. I-I mean…” She took another deep breath. “We’ve never really talked about it.”

“I didn’t think we had to.” Then, his playfulness from earlier returned as he continued, “But we’re talking now. Is this what you had in mind?”

“More or less,” she teased back, and for a second there it eased the weight bearing down on her shoulders. But she had to know for sure. She let go of his wrists and played with the buttons of his shirt, fingers tugging at the collar. “So,” she drawled out. “We’re dating?”

“Yes.” He nodded resolutely. “Is that okay?”

She nodded back. “It is.”

Their faces broke out in simultaneous grins.

“So." Wolfgang winked at her. "Any other questions?” 

Despite his jovial tone, she heard the underlying seriousness of it. She pretended to be immersed in her thoughts. “Just one. For now."

He encouraged her to continue, massaging her scalp gently with the tips of his fingers. He chuckled as she hummed dreamily.

She pressed closer to him. “What does ‘Suesse’ mean?” 

He stopped snickering entirely, but the smile on his face remained as he stared at her. He regarded her for a few minutes, lifted one hand to push the hair away from her eyes. He kissed her forehead, and Kala wondered if he was trying to evade the question. His lips followed the line down the bridge of her nose before kissing the tip, making her scrunch her face as she giggled. She turned her head up a little to catch his lips, but he moved to kiss one side of her cheek, then the other. She let out a small noise of protest, but his gaze returned to hers, and the intensity of his eyes never failed to take her breath away.

“You want to know what it means?” His voice was lower than Kala had ever heard it, and she strained to catch what he said among the liveliness of their surroundings.

Nevertheless, she nodded. He inched his head lower to hers until their lips met in a soft kiss. She closed her eyes and released a sigh as he licked along the seam of her lips, opening her mouth to his tongue. She explored his mouth as freely as he explored her own, his tongue gliding over hers, tasting more of her. They both pulled away, panting slightly.

He leaned in for a more chaste kiss, as if to punctuate his point. “That.”

She blushed. He released his hold on her, grabbed her hand and this time led the way towards the open gates of the park.

“My family has been asking about you, you know. Daya especially,” Kala said as she memorised the way his palm felt against hers. 

He quirked an eyebrow, interested. “What has she been asking?” His thumb smoothed over the back of her hand. 

“Many things.” One of which was the constant pestering of Daya through both text and video call: _When are you going to marry Wolfgang? Mama and Papa can't wait forever, you know. And I refuse, as your younger sister, to get married before you._ Her pulse was racing again, but she willed it to calm down with deep breaths, letting the intake of oxygen soothe her nerves. That conversation will come later ( _if it ever does_ , that voice in the back of her head taunted again), but for now, she just wanted to be with him, in the present. 

She immersed herself in the ambiance of the park. With the knowledge of Wolfgang's damaged childhood against the picturesque image in front of her, she felt a kind of dissatisfaction that he didn't voice. “You have too many bad memories here.”

He sighed in acquiescence. “Berlin. It’s a part of me. I think it always will be.”

She let the words hang in the air, let the wind carry their melancholy away, and welcomed the warmth of the sun on their skin. “So what can you tell me about this place. Burgerpark Pankow?” She flushed, knowing she absolutely butchered the name. He laughed at her pronunciation, corrected it, and she tried not to fixate on the curl of his tongue or how his voice went deeper whenever he spoke German.

His laughter stopped, and he tugged her aside to let other people walk through. He stood in front of her, looking thoughtful for a moment, before tipping his lips up into a smirk. “Well…” He launched into the full history of the park - its English translation meaning 'Citizens' Park' in the municipality of Pankow. It was created for private use in 1864, but acquired for the general public in 1907 and renovated heavily by the council. It sounded so unlike him, but Kala marvelled at his interest in history. His eyes seemed to be focused on something beside her, but she didn't pay it any mind. 

When he finished, she looked up at him disbelievingly. “How do you know so much?”

He shrugged. “I like it here. And..." He grabbed her by the hips and turned her body slightly to the right, whispering into her ear as he pointed at a small board. “There’s an information guide right next to you.”

She whisked back around and gasped, “Wolfgang!” 

He laughed out loud, hugging her to him as she pointed an accusatory finger at his chest. She couldn't help but giggle alongside him, the sounds of their unbridled merriment echoing in the space. 

* * *

“There are a few sculptures and monuments around." He kissed the side of her head mindlessly. "That, I know.” 

Kala felt the heat rising to her cheeks, and she craned her head to graze her lips against his jaw in return. “Which one is your favourite?”

“The gazelle,” he answered almost immediately.

“But over there-“he pointed to a section a few meters away-"is the best part of Bürgerpark.”

Even from afar, Kala could see why it was the best part: the walkway was divided in two and lined with tall pillars, in between them was a small gazebo with three arches, the intricate detailing of it all becoming more clear as they approached it. 

She smoothed her hand on one of the pillars. “Beautiful architecture.”

“Yeah,” Wolfgang breathed. When he spoke this time, she recognised a difference in his tone. Unlike the information he pretended to have known about the park's history earlier, he seemed to be more passionate about the influence of the Greek and Roman civilisations between the 14th and 16th centuries, and how it continued to cross over into contemporary culture. Kala looked at him with amazement, deducing that the look on her face right now probably reflected his expression whenever she regaled him with stories of her experiments and results from the laboratory she wanted to share with him (It was a look she had seen numerous times, but she thought she would never get over it all the same).

Perhaps he took her attentiveness in the wrong way, because he retreated slightly as he asked, “What?”

“Hm,” she smiled up at him. “You’re very knowledgeable on Renaissance architecture.”

“My father would sometimes bring me with him when he went to my uncle’s mansion. His library was filled with neo-Renaissance artwork and had pillars just like this.” He nodded at the one Kala was still resting her hand on. “I wanted to learn more about it, so I read books. Studied the paintings. Looked at architecture.” He sighed wistfully, before the nostalgia in his eyes was pushed away and replaced by that simmering anger she saw earlier at the Berlin Wall. “It was the one thing I had in common with them.”

She rested her head against the side of his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there, but she said nothing. Instead, she admired the pillars, took in each element of the gazebo. She tried to understand Wolfgang's fascination with it. Stepping away from him, she wrapped an arm around the pillar and swung her body around, letting the skirt of her dress fan out. She ran to the other pillar across from the one she was on, swinging around again with a carefree laugh.

“What are you doing?” 

She didn't reply, tossing him a wide smile as she skipped along the footpath to swing on every single pillar that she could, trying not to go too fast and make herself dizzy. Wolfgang followed her with a shake of his head, and he reached out to grab her arms, but she pulled away at the last minute, avoiding his touch. Soon, it became a chasing game as they weaved through the pillars. Kala squealed in delight as Wolfgang finally caught her by the waist, spun her around and backed her up against the final pillar before the pathway led to the open garden once more. They're both breathless, chests brushing against each other's as they attempted to keep from laughing. Kala leaned her head against the pillar, tugging on the front of his shirt as she pulled him closer. His head was already tilted in for a kiss, but he kept a small distance between their lips, his eyes bearing into hers. Her body tingled with anticipation, and she couldn't take it any longer. She gave in, fusing her mouth hard against his.

He gripped tighter on her waist, lifting her up a little to kiss her deeper. She stretched on the tips of her toes. His hips canted into hers, and she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 


	7. Bars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter, and the following chapters of this fic, will be dedicated to: Sas (@Nightjar_Patronus), Ambra (@thankgodforgrav on twitter), @SawenSheila on twitter, @KalaganginParis on twitter, @ruthh16, @PreRaphaelites, @messedup4good, Sav, and as always, Lynn. You wonderful people have been so kind. Your support and encouragement mean everything to me. I view you all as my inspirations to keep writing. 
> 
> And for those who read my story, thank you, as well <3  
> I hope my utmost gratefulness to you all communicates through my writing.

“Is that him? Right there?”

Wolfgang looked to where Kala was pointing, over the heads of the crowded bar. She continued to pull him along, grasped his hand tight in hers so as not to lose him. He squinted his eyes as he tried to pick out a familiar face, almost grunting in surprise when Kala's body pressed against his as they made their way to the booth area.   
  
Once they reached the other side, which had more breathing room but was just as noisy, Wolfgang scanned meticulously from the left corner where the booths started, all the way to the right hand-side - until his eyes saw the back of a man's head, brown hair styled up like it always had since they were teenagers. He was tall, yet somewhat scrawny. But Wolfgang knew he saved his life more times that he could count.   
  
“Yeah,” he smiled. “That’s Felix.” He nodded, more to himself, and was about to continue walking towards him when Kala squeezed their palms together. He turned to her expectantly.   
  
With a meek voice and a slight flush on her cheeks, she asked, “Does he know about me?”  
  
"Of course."   
  
He and Felix were at this very same bar, the day after Wolfgang arrived in Berlin, after an exhausting thirty-eight hour journey from Mumbai.   
  
_"How'd it go?” Felix asked as he handed him a beer, the condensation of the bottle cooling the inside of his palm._  
  
_Wolfgang tapped the bottle on the table lightly before answering. His flight back was delayed by three hours, and he barely got any sleep. Not in the plane, not in the connecting airports, not even in his shitty apartment. Which he found was now too quiet. None of that took away from his week, though. “It was great.”_  
  
_Felix gaped. “Come again?” He blinked a few times before repeating, “Great?”_  
  
_“Yeah." Wolfgang took a sip of his drink, not bothering to enjoy the taste. It was too bitter, and too cold. He caught himself craving something else, something warmer. A black coffee, maybe. Or a chai. He cleared his throat. "Mumbai weather is nice, actually.”_  
  
_It seemed whatever he said just flew past Felix's ears. “Wait. Not fine. Not good. But great?” He still hadn't touched his own bottle._  
  
_Wolfgang exhaled loudly through his nose. “Yeah. It was.”_  
  
_Now, Felix pointed the bottle at him. “Okay, then why do you look like someone’s pissed in your beer?” He gulped down almost half of his, then signalled to a passing server for two more._  
  
_Wolfgang frowned. "Huh?"_  
  
_“What about Kala? Did you get along alright? Didn't scare her away with your broodiness?” Felix looked at him and snorted loudly. “Though it does seem to work for you…Hey. Why are you more quiet than usual?” He snapped his fingers impatiently, a wide smirk was plastered on his face. He asked with an amused voice, “Did you fuck her?”_  
  
_“No, Felix.”_  
  
_Normally, he would say yes. And they would celebrate another notch in his belt with a round or two (or three or four) of vodka shots at their favourite club, until he chanced upon another nameless woman to repeat the whole experience with. But the thought of doing that to her - to Kala - repulsed him. He didn't want to kick her out of the bed immediately after, or forget about her after one tryst, or mindlessly work his frustrations out on her, like all those women before. He almost laughed at himself, for not having sex at the forefront of his mind that whole week in India. Because instead, he wanted to do right by her, to get to know her - a concept he had never considered with anyone else until that week. He was sure if he explained it to Felix, he would piss himself: Wolfgang Bogdanow, met an attractive woman he didn't fuck within ten minutes of talking to her._  
_  
True to form, he was laughing now. “Bullshit, Wolfie! That's a good one.” Felix held out his hand for a high five, and let it hang in the air when Wolfgang didn't return the gesture. “Wait. You didn't?” He looked puzzled, and Wolfgang wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. Then again, it puzzled him, too. Felix put his hand down and took a last swig of his beer._

_It was quiet for a moment. Then, his face lit up in an understanding grin. “You like this woman.”_

_Wolfgang opened his mouth to retort. But was relieved when the server came back at just the right moment, placing the two beers down and taking Felix's empty bottle. She peered at the half-empty one in front of him, and at the polite shake of his head, she left to serve a different table._  
  
_Felix clicked his tongue at the interruption. When he looked at Wolfgang this time, the expression on his face was more profound - hopeful, even. “Would you want to see her again?”_  
  
_The question was foreign to Wolfgang’s ears, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world when he answered, “Every day.”_  
  
_“Shit.” Felix leaned forward in his seat. “Is she hot? What does she look like? Do you have any photos of her?”_  
  
_Wolfgang shifted his eyes to his phone, and the insides of his palm were itching to grab it before Felix could even think to swipe it off the table._  
  
_Felix followed his gaze, then raised an eyebrow at him, his tone deliberate. “You know I'll just ask Daniela for them if you don't show me.”_  
_  
With slow and exaggerated movements, Wolfgang unlocked his phone and opened up his camera roll. He scrolled up to the moments from the beginning of the trip, skipping past the wedding pictures that Kala forwarded him.The memory was so fresh that he didn't even need to look at the images. But those ones were practically burned into his mind, the way he and Kala were glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the wedding and the reception afterwards._

_His mind couldn't help but wander to when they returned to the hotel afterwards: when she tugged at his shirt to kiss him deeper, her fingers scraping over his scalp as she ran a hand through his hair. He took his time kissing her, and he could feel the impression of her mouth on his with painful clarity. He drank in her sighs greedily then, didn't know when he would get another chance to do it again. But after telling him she was going to visit Berlin - fuck, she was going to visit him - now he was getting dizzy at the thought of planning several ways to get her to moan out his -_

_A loud cough stopped his train of thought, and he wordlessly passed the phone across the table._  
  
_Felix whistled lowly, one eyebrow raised as he looked through the pictures. “Oh man. She's fucking hot!” He tapped the screen occasionally to view them in full. “And wow, you actually took selfies with her? This is amazing.” He handed the phone back to him with a proud grin on his face. “Tell me more about her.”_  
_  
With his mind a little clearer, Wolfgang mulled over the request. It wasn't an unreasonable thing to ask - they shared tales like this all the time. Although, where Wolfgang would once talk about a woman's physical appearance, or the way they felt during sex, he discovered that there were other things he could say about Kala._

 _Like how she preferred to sleep cocooned under the covers, when he saw her most mornings, only because he would get up hours before she did. How sometimes, she would murmur about formulas and chemicals, and at other times, she was calm. (Wolfgang would synch his breathing with hers, the rhythm of it helping him return to a better sleep.) How she could speak Hindi and Marathi fluently, as well as the Gujarati and Kannada language, apart from English. He balked when her mother revealed the fact proudly, when he met her family at their restaurant and home for lunch. Kala's teeth sank into her bottom lip shyly as she asked her mother to talk about something else (he missed everything Priya said to him after that). He hadn't heard her speak Gujarati and Kannada during the week, but Wolfgang learned to discern when she spoke Hindi or if she was speaking in Marathi - based on her body language and the cadence of her tone._  
  
_Ultimately, he kept those to himself. How could he sum her up without sounding like a blundering, infatuated fool? Felix would argue that he was well on his way there, though. If the shit-eating grin on his face was any indication. He decided to tell Felix the most basic facts of them all. “She's a scientist.” He suppressed a tired yawn to look at the way Felix’s eyes widened in surprise. “Her family owns a restaurant and her father is the chef. She's also got a sister - a few years younger.”_  
  
_Felix nodded. "And the ex-boyfriend?"_  
  
_Wolfgang rolled his eyes, knocked back the rest of his first bottle and started on the second one. "A fuck wit," he burped out._  
  
"How much did you tell him?" Kala asked, curious.   
  
He shifted his eyes. “He knows enough.”  
  
“Enough that he won't freak out if I go up to him first and say hello?” She craned her head to look at the back of Felix's frame, leaning over the counter to order his drink. Her eyes flitted back to his, still hesitant as she asked, “Me? A random stranger?”  
  
He shook his head, replied softly, “But you're not random.”  
  
She smiled, and Wolfgang sensed a change in her demeanour. Now determined, she walked past him and strode over to Felix, who was getting ready to sit down on one side of his chosen booth. Wolfgang followed closely behind her. Before Felix could slide in, she tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me. Felix?” She extended her hand to him when he turned. “Hello, I’m Kala. It's so nice to meet you.”  
  
He looked at her, brows crinkling with genial unfamiliarity. He shook her hand, nevertheless. “And you as well.” A few seconds passed before his eyes widened in realisation. “Hold on. Did you say Kala?!” At her nod of affirmation, he continued, “Are you here on your own? I think Wolfgang is-” That was Wolfgang's cue to cough from behind Kala, shuffling to the side as she gave Felix a wide smile. Felix launched at him with a loud kiss on the cheek. “Wolfie!”  
  
Wolfgang clapped his back as Felix released him from the hug. “You got tanned.”  
  
“Apparently the sun in Mexico is brighter than Berlin. Who fucking knew?” Felix gestured for Kala and Wolfgang to sit down. “Make yourselves at home, first round’s on me.”

* * *

Wolfgang had one arm slung over Kala's shoulders, his fingers playing with the tendrils of her hair as Felix talked about his trip to Mexico. Kala was riveted, asking Felix questions about the weather, their itinerary.

For the most part, Wolfgang listened, nodding and smiling when Felix talked about getting an upset stomach from the cuisine there. But his focus was geared at the television just behind Felix's head, trying to see if Germany was going to win the football game against Australia in the second half. Ten minutes before the end of the match, when it became clear Germany was going to win 3-1, he tuned in to the conversation. 

“Wolfgang said you met in detention when you were kids?” Kala asked as she sipped on her cocktail, a fruity blend that Wolfgang nearly choked on when he asked to try it before. He didn't mind the taste, but he certainly preferred watching her now lick the sugar from the edge of the glass. She noticed him watching her, so she turned her face towards him, their eyes meeting as she continued to tongue at the glass. He swore she was doing it on purpose.  
  
Felix, who was either clueless to the exchange, or refused to acknowledge it out loud, answered, "Fifth grade, yeah.” He pointed to Wolfgang. “And look what happened fifteen years later. Twenty-seven years old and we’re still the same dickheads.” He chuckled, shaking his head slowly as if reliving a memory. “We didn’t learn shit at school. We always cut class and watched movies.”  
  
Wolfgang scoffed. “You mean just the one film. Conan the Barbarian." He smiled at Felix knowingly. “What is best in life?”  
  
“To crush your enemies,” Felix beamed, holding his bottle up in cheers.  
  
“See them driven before you." Wolfgang mirrored the gesture, his grin widening as Kala watched them with bizarre amusement.  
  
“And hear the lamentations of their women!” They clinked bottles, and drank generously. Felix placed his bottle down on the table forcefully, overwhelmed by how moved he was with the quote. “Fuck. Best movie ever.”  
  
Kala cupped her hands around her mouth, said in an apologetic whisper, "I’m sorry, I’ve never seen it.”  
  
Felix whipped his head towards her. “You haven’t?”   
  
She shook her head.  
  
Felix turned to Wolfgang and gawked at him. “Wolfie, how could you not-? You're fucking hopeless. You finally found the Pia Sahhastrabuddhe to your Rancho, and-”  
  
It was Kala’s turn to gasp. “Wait.” She held up a finger to Felix. “As in Pia and Rancho from the ‘Three Idiots’?”  
  
Wolfgang blinked, looking from Felix back to Kala as he failed to understand the reference. He stayed quiet, took a sip from his beer and let them talk.  
  
“Yeah, do you like it?” Felix focused his attention on her, his drink forgotten momentarily.  
  
She nodded. “I do!” In her excitement, she waved her hands around as she spoke. “So if I'm Pia, and Wolfgang’s Rancho, who does that make you?” She gave Felix a quick once-over and smirked, her eyes narrowing with intent observation. “Farhan Qureshi?"  
  
She moved her gaze so it connected with Wolfgang for a few seconds. Then, in a strikingly bold move that sent his pulse racing, she winked at him.  
  
Wolfgang tightened his jaw. Fucking hell.  
  
“Fuck off!” Felix laughed loudly, slapping his hands on the table as Kala giggled at him. “As if you would say that!” He bellowed, causing a few heads to turn at the ruckus.  
  
Kala put a finger to her mouth. “Ssh! You're disturbing everyone else,” she scolded him, still stifling a giggle.  
  
“Who cares?” Felix sneered at the other patrons of the bar, but he settled down nonetheless. "I actually think I’d be Raju. A charming, rags-to-riches kind of story, you know?" He lifted one foot and posed so she could admire his shoe: a dark brown leather boat shoe, one of his favourite pairs. Wolfgang remembered the day he bought them, Felix insisted he get his own pair, but he settled for a steel-toed boot instead - black, of course.   
  
She let out a small hum, appraising him. “I can actually see that, yes.”  
  
“Pft, and you thought I would be Farhan." He remembered about his drink then, took a few small sips. "As much as I like him, and let's face it, I am the narrator of Wolfie's life..." He laughed again when Wolfgang sent him a fierce glare. "Alright, Wolfie. Calm down." He stood up and walked off, saying, "I'm going to the toilet. Be right back, kids."

* * *

Kala looked at Wolfgang, and she placated him with a smooth of her hand on his arm - that was still slung around her. He immediately simmered down, although he wasn't sure why he was annoyed in the first place. He replayed the events of the past half hour. Everything was fine. He was happy to see Felix again. They ordered drinks. And then Kala started talking to...Oh. For fuck's sake. He nearly groaned out loud when he figured it out. No way. No fucking way was he jealous of Kala and Felix laughing over films he didn't know. How old was he?   
  
"Are you alright?" Her words dripped with concern.  
  
"Yeah,” he said halfheartedly.

She nodded, but he knew she didn’t believe him. She didn’t press on the matter, opting to change the subject instead. “Felix is really nice.”

“Yeah. He is.”

She hooked her chin on his shoulder, her deep brown eyes gazing into his. He could stare at them indefinitely, he thought. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Never.” His other hand let go of the beer bottle to trace nonsensical patterns on her leg. “I was just being stupid.” He looked down.   
  
She lifted his chin so their eyes met. "I doubt that. But...this isn't like the Rajan thing, is it?"  
  
"No," he answered truthfully.  
  
"Good," she smiled. She leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

"Not at the dinner table!” Felix said as he passed by their booth, but he didn’t sit down. Kala squeaked as she sat back against the leather seat of the booth. Felix tutted in mock disapproval. “Respect your elder, please.”

"Fuck off," Wolfgang grumbled, tuning out Felix’s answering laugh as he walked away. He lowered his head to brush a soft kiss on Kala’s lips, grunting in surprise when she pulled at the front of his shirt to kiss him harder. He smiled against her mouth. She really did have a thing for tugging at his clothes, whether it was a hand curling on chest to feel the fabric, or her palms measuring the line of his shoulders as she smoothed away non-existent creases. He pulled away to whisper something in her ear, something he wanted to tell her since she got into his car earlier this evening.

“You look beautiful.”

Her free hand held on to the back of his neck, toying with the hairs on the nape. “Danke schön,” she said warmly. His chest spasmed at hearing his language from her lips, and he made a note to himself to learn Hindi one of these days.

“Bitte.” He buried his nose in her curls. In an even lower voice, he said, “Du sehen immer schön aus.” Because she did. She always looked beautiful. He repeated the sentiment as his hand squeezed the muscle of her upper thigh.

He felt Kala stiffen as she inhaled sharply, her grip on his shirt tightening a little. He grinned. Interesting.

“Suesse.” He kissed the skin behind her ear, letting the scent of jasmine and roses fill his nostrils. “Du kannst mein Kleider ausziehen, wann immer du willst.”

“I don’t know what that means,” she breathed out, the air warm on his skin where she exhaled. Wolfgang thought he heard a slight tremor to her voice. His jaw slacked, mouth going dry at the thought of her being affected by him like this. In the same way she drove him insane with the little things she did.

He swallowed. “I said, you can take my clothes off whenever you want.”

She let out a small moan as she tugged the shirt up instinctively at his words.

Fuck. He pursed his lips into a straight line and shut his eyes, counted to ten slowly in his mind, because so help him if he did something that could get them kicked out of the bar for indecency.

“What cheesy line is he feeding you now?”

Wolfgang moved his head to glare at Felix. Of course he’d chosen to return at that moment. “Again, fuck off.”

Felix smiled cheekily, sliding back into his seat. "Would love to, but my girl's still in Mexico, you see."  
  
Kala was still blushing as she straightened the collar of Wolfgang’s shirt, her fingers reaching up to glide along his bottom lip. He nipped the tip of her pointer finger gently, snickering when she poked him on the cheek with it. "She didn't go back to Chicago?"

Felix grimaced at his choice of words. "Her flight's in a few hours. So technically, she is still in Mexico." 

Kala giggled. "Oh, Felix."

The conversation slowed down after that, with the occasional banter between Wolfgang and Felix filling in the amicable silence between them, until Kala addressed Felix again. “Ooh, I just remembered! Have you seen ‘Golmaal’? It’s one of the funniest films I’ve ever seen.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”  
  
Kala smiled. “I highly recommend it! There are two sequels, and I think they’re planning a fourth instalment as well.”  
  
“I’ll definitely check it out. What was it called again?” He unlocked his phone and passed it to Kala, who typed in the name of the film into a new page of his notes.   
  
Felix's gaze caught Wolfgang's as Kala handed his phone back. “What? I like Bollywood films, too.” Felix grumbled, a little defensive.  
  
That was new. Wolfgang said nothing, but the smirk plastered on his face spoke volumes. Felix scoffed at him, and gulped down the rest of his drink.  
  
Kala wiggled in her seat. Wolfgang removed his arm from around her and gave her a questioning look, to which she responded with a nod of her head. She scooted out of the booth, smoothing her palms over her jeans when she stood upright. “I'm going to the bar and get more drinks. Do you want anything?”  
  
Felix shook his empty bottle. “Two of these again, please."  
  
She curtsied, a graceful and endearing movement, and Felix bowed from his seat in return. They both laughed at each other. Wolfgang rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

His moment of pettiness aside, he was glad they got along.

* * *

As soon as she left, Felix moved to occupy her seat next to Wolfgang. His leg was bouncing in excitement, the glint in his eyes made him resemble a gossiping teenager. “So,” Felix beamed. “That’s Kala. Wow. I like her.”

“Yeah.” Wolfgang nodded, a small sigh leaving his lips as he breathed out.  

“I can't believe she's actually here.” Wolfgang couldn’t even believe to describe his ongoing bewilderment about that fact. Felix crossed his arms. “Why didn't you tell me?” His tone accusatory.

Wolfgang shook his head. “She arrived three days ago. I didn't know about it until then. But one of her friends arranged this trip as a surprise.”  
  
Felix scoffed. “Some friend you are. Where can I find someone like that?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
Felix punched him on the arm, his voice getting more excited as he spoke. “She’s even hotter in person than those pictures you showed me. And you said she’s a scientist, too?”  
  
Wolfgang smiled fondly, remembering the words Riley said when she first introduced them. “She’s the head at one of the departments in the pharmaceutical company she works for.”  
  
“What the fuck.” Felix said incredulously, a little intimidated but mostly in awe of this woman.  
  
“Yeah.” This woman. Who wanted to be with him -  _fucking Wolfgang Bogdanow_ \- despite all his shortcomings. Despite his past. Who chose to be with him despite the fact that she would always deserve more than what little he offered. Wolfgang’s chest puffed up slightly as he sat a little straighter at the thought.  
  
“So,” Felix tried again. “It’s been, what, six months of long distance now?” He nudged Wolfgang playfully, a mischievous smile on his face, though his tone was anything but when he asked, “Must be serious, huh?”  
  
“I guess.” Wolfgang shrugged, then took a long sip of his beer. He smacked his lips with a small sigh. “I’ve never really thought about it.”  
  
Well. That wasn’t exactly true.  
  
He was taken back to his conversation with Kala at Bürgerpark Pankow two afternoons ago - how she didn’t think they were dating. Which boggled him, because he assumed they were, ever since his lips first touched hers at that extravagant hotel in Mumbai, when his lips last touched hers at the airport before she boarded her flight.  
  
(That was his mistake, but he was glad they established what they were. Although, if he was being honest, he wanted her from the first moment he saw her: standing in the middle of Heathrow Airport with her eyes wide as she stared back at him, the blush evident on her cheeks as he not-so-subtly looked over her frame. Will and Riley made it a point to bring up whenever it became a topic of conversation - whether it was through text or on a call. He didn’t really mind.)  
  
He never stopped to question it, never thought of another woman but her since then. Is that what being serious meant?  
  
Of course he thought they were dating. Why wouldn’t he? He thought about every message she had sent for the past six months. The little emojis scattered throughout the texts, how she checked up on him to see if he was okay, whenever she sent a funny picture or a link to a video she thought he would like. (He saved them all, and looked through them whenever he was bored. But he would never admit that out loud.)  
  
The Skype sessions he looked forward to the most, because he could see her face and hear her speak. He liked when she talked about work. Distance didn't matter to him. He felt every emotion from her as if it were his very own. Even when it didn't make sense sometimes, the passion in her voice made him feel just as excited as she was.  
  
Is that what being serious meant? When he felt he could just sit there and listen to her talk for hours about anything and everything? When the sound of her laugh settled deep into his bones and made him feel oddly whole? If it was, then being with her was the most serious thing he ever had.  
  
He didn’t tell Felix any of that. Instead, he schooled his features into nonchalance, hoped Felix didn't catch the smile on his face. Then, he cleared his throat and shrugged again, absentmindedly playing with the empty bottle in his hands.  
  
Felix raised an eyebrow. He saw. “You know you suck shit at lying, right?”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
Felix shoved him a second time. “Come on, Wolfie. This is huge for you.” He nodded in the general direction Kala walked off to. “You really think she’s the one?”  
  
“I-”  
  
“Sorry I took so long,” chimed a soft voice so familiar that Wolfgang stilled. Just his luck. As if on cue, Kala materialised out of nowhere, two bottles of beer in one hand and a smaller glass of clear liquid in the other. She handed them one each with a smile on her face, like she just hadn't walked into a conversation about her. “I bumped into some really lovely people and-”  
  
She looked between him and Felix, her brow furrowing as she sat down on Felix’s seat. “Is something wrong?”  
  
Felix visibly relaxed, glad she didn’t catch on to his words (Wolfgang let out the breath he was holding). “No, no.” He shook his head at her. “Of course not, frau.” He clinked his new beer bottle against Wolfgang's. “Just telling Wolfie here that we should head to the karaoke bar down the street.”  
  
Kala tilted her head to the side, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Karaoke?”  
  
“Yeah.” Felix nodded. “The place just opened. Let’s go, it should be fun.”

* * *

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Wolfgang muttered with distaste as he listened to the people singing on the stage, their off-key caterwauling being amplified by the large speakers facing the crowd. He grimaced at Kala, who only shrugged and clapped along as the small crowd screamed with joy at the singing trio. 

“Here you go.” Felix turned from the bar to pass him a shot glass filled to the brim with vodka. Wolfgang knocked it back, let the liquid burn down his throat as he swallowed. Felix grabbed two more from the counter and extended one to Kala. "This is yours."  
  
She held out a hand and pushed the glass back. “Oh, no thank you. I think I’ve had enough for the night.” Felix shrugged, and gulped down her shot. “Besides..." she looked up at Wolfgang, a small smile on her face. “Someone needs to look after the two of you.”

Felix hollered as Wolfgang bent to kiss her cheek gratefully. He pulled her in for an embrace, roaming his hands all over her back and sliding them down to her cup her ass. He swayed their bodies out of rhythm to the music playing in the background.

She laughed as she pressed closer, hugging him back with arms wrapped around his neck. She rested the side of her head on his chest. "You're drunk," she teased him.

"Hardly."

On her, perhaps. Wolfgang welcomed the sensation of dizziness from their close proximity, the way she threw him off balance with the slightest upturn of her lips. But it took more than a couple of beers and one measly shot to convince him to get up on the stage.

Felix's solution to that was to buy more drinks, this time double tequila shots. 

* * *

After a considerable number of mixed spirits, Wolfgang found himself blinded by white lights as he stared down at the crowd, who were clambered on the couches and pillows tossed haphazardly onto the floor. He held a microphone in one hand, and its accompanying stand on the other. How the fuck did he get up here? He looked around for Kala, but suddenly remembered that she excused herself to go to the restroom mere seconds before Felix - the bastard - pushed him onto the stage. 

Wolfgang swallowed back the lump in his throat at the silence that fell upon the crowd. They watched him with scrutinising eyes, small coughs were heard from the far side of the bar. He couldn't move his hands. Not even to put the microphone back on the stand, or to wipe the sweat that broke out along his forehead. The scene was all too familiar to him. 

_It was performance day. The whole school had been preparing weeks for this. And after hours of rehearsals and fitting into costumes, all their hard work would finally pay off. At least, that's what Miss Heidi told the seventh grade music class. She ran through the entire program with them one last time before letting them go home, telling them to, "Rest properly so you can do your very best tonight!"_

_The students filed out of the room in small groups, until Wolfgang was the last one left to gather his torn up backpack from where it rested against the stage back wall._  
  
_He was about to walk down the small flight of stairs when Miss Heidi called out. “Wolfgang, you didn't put a parent or guardian in your guest list for our recital. Do you have a programme? All the relevant information is there.”_  
  
_He thought about the crumpled piece of paper under his bed. “I lost it.”_  
_  
She gave him a disbelieving look, pulling out a piece of paper from the folder clutched against her chest. “Here, have another one. They need to respond to the invitation by this afternoon, okay? So we can add seats before the concert.” She smiled at him. "And great job today, Wolfgang. You'll make our class proud." With that, she walked backstage, calling out to someone from behind there to fix the lighting._

_Wolfgang read through the contents of the note, not really taking it in. He had read it enough times; folded and unfolded the paper so much that it was torn in some places where the paper creased most. There was no point to it. He had no one to appoint as his guest. Aunt Lena and Uncle Bernhard were both his and Felix's guests. That was that._

_He shoved it into his backpack, sighing a little as he made his way back to the house._  
_  
He looked at his watch before stepping through the door. 3:20. His father was either at home, or about to get home from wherever the hell he went during the day. He sighed in defeat. There was only ever one way for him to find out. He left his shoes just outside the door and walked down the hallway. The television wasn't playing. No loud belching. No snoring. Wolfgang smiled to himself. He might be able to watch a few minutes of his favourite show on the television._

_There was no one in the kitchen either. Wolfgang quietly prepared himself a sandwich, bracing the refrigerator door as it closed, let the cool air from inside relieve how his skin burned from walking under the sun. Every few seconds or so he would still, tried to listen for any sounds to indicate his father was home._

_He sat on the floor in front of the television, placing it on mute. Foregoing a glass of water to avoid the loud noise of the tap, he bit into his meal, letting the thick mayonnaise and the sauces from the meat quench his parched tongue. He was halfway through eating, the television forgotten entirely, when the sound of heavy breathing made him freeze._

_“You."_

_Damn it._

_“Some bitch called and asked if you gave me a note from school? For a recital?” His father spat on the floor. “Do you have the note?”_  
  
_Wolfgang looked him in the eye as he replied, “Yes."_  
  
_The small defiance earned a hard glare. “So go fucking get it.”_  
  
_Wolfgang retrieved the note from his bag, and his father snatched it from his hands, reading through it slowly. He dreaded for his reaction. “Is this a joke? A school recital. What the fuck does this have to do with - Wolfgang Bogdanow: soloist.” His father raised an eyebrow at him._  
  
_Wolfgang didn't dare to say a word. "Are you singing now?” His father slurred. “Holding hands and dancing on stage with your friends like a pussy?” He laughed mockingly._  
_  
Wolfgang watched as he tore up the note to shreds, pieces of paper flying all over. “No son of mine is going to do shit like this. Singing. Fucking singing."_

_He walked past him, bumping against his shoulder so hard that Wolfgang was nearly knocked over. He was going to leave the house. "Tell that bitch I'm not going.” He yelled from over his shoulder, slamming the front door shut. “Break a leg, pussy.”_

_Later that evening, as Wolfgang stood in front of his class, waiting for the curtain to be lifted up to begin their performance, he felt sick to his stomach. From the other side, he could hear thunderous claps of proud parents and families. He grit his teeth._

_"Wolfgang, don't worry," one of his classmates gave him a thumbs-up._ _He nodded back, not convinced._

_Wolfgang closed his eyes, breathed deeply one last time before clearing his throat. He shouldn't have to worry. His father wasn't there. His father wasn't there._

_The curtains rose up, and the murmurs pattered down as the crowd lent their attention on the performance._

_Wolfgang looked past the bright yellow lights, smiling a little as Aunt Lena waved to him from the fourth row of chairs. He lifted his head, about to begin the performance, when his eyes saw tattered clothes, a bulging stomach, and a smug turn of lips at the very back of the small auditorium._

_His father was there._

_Miss Heidi cleared her throat. "Wolfgang." She mouthed the words he was supposed to be singing._

_But he couldn't bring himself to carry a melody, didn't want to give his father the satisfaction of hearing him sing. Miss Heidi told him that he had the voice of a bird. He didn't want that to be caged as well._

_Regardless, his father stood up from his seat. He bellowed in raucous laughter, and everyone in the auditorium looked horrified as he yelled out, "Pussy!" before walking out._

_Eventually, Wolfgang carried through with his solo, only slipping his pitch once in the three minute performance. He was met with happy smiles and teary eyes._

_When he returned late in the night, after the Berners treated him and Felix to a celebratory dinner and ice cream, he got bruises that lasted for weeks._

“Fuck you!” Wolfgang screamed into the microphone. “Fuck. You.” The shrieking feedback on the speaker was loud enough to bring him back to reality. Karaoke bar. Right.  
  
From the crowd, he could hear Felix yell back, “Yeah! You tell them, Wolfie!”

Wolfgang was seething. This, singing, was the one thing he liked doing that his father didn't have the capacity to take away. But Wolfgang let him. He let that fucking - 

His violent thoughts were taken away at the feel of Kala's hand atop his, his knuckles going pale from gripping at the microphone stand too hard. He watched, dumbfounded, as Kala pried his fingers away and twined theirs together. 

He noticed that she had a microphone as well.

“Kala! Yes!” Felix whistled from somewhere in the crowd. He clicked his tongue loudly and impatiently. “Oi, play the fucking song!”

Immediately, the opening strings of a guitar blasted on the speakers. Wolfgang recognised the song choice, cringing a little. 'What's Up?' by 4 Non Blondes. Fucking Felix. They grew up jeering at the song whenever they heard it - with Felix calling it "possibly the worst ironically best song in history". But Kala was giggling openly, and she sang the opening croons with a bright smile on her face. Her pitch was a little shaky, she was nervous. His eyes bore into hers for a moment, and her eyes crinkled as she nodded at him to follow along. His gaze dropped to her lips, mesmerised by the movement of her mouth as she sang. 

When the chorus came on, he allowed himself to sing along, screaming into the microphone with abandon. Kala moved her microphone away from her mouth as she laughed, covering the sound with the palm of her hand. He was having so much fun; the apprehension and reserved anger he had melting away with the sound of her voice. Together, they powered through the second verse, and when the chorus came on this time, the crowd was signing along with them. Wolfgang watched as they waved their hands high in the air, swayed from side to side, as they all shouted, "What's going on?"

He looked back at Kala, whose head was tilted to the side as she kept singing. He inched closer to her, his own head tilting to the other side. The eruption of cheers from the crowd was nothing compared to the loud pulsing in his ears. He felt something in his stomach tighten as he repeated the line breathlessly, and her mouth formed to say the exact same words.  
  
“What’s going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I apologise if the German dialogue used is incorrect*
> 
> this fic is inspired by Pablo Neruda's 'Cien Sonetos de amor' XVII:
> 
> te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,  
> secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.
> 
> (I love you as one loves certain obscure things,  
> secretly, between the shadow and the soul.)


	8. Today's The Day

Felix sighed wearily as he drank the last of his lukewarm coffee. "Fuck, that was a huge order,” he grumbled.

Wolfgang sat back against his chair as they sat outside the small cafe across from the key shop. He looked up at the wide umbrella stuck in the middle of the table to shade them from the mid-afternoon sun. They decided to close early for the day, after packing up and shipping off a five-figure deal to a renowned security company based in Munich.

Being a relatively small business, they didn't get much clientele apart from Berlin locals, giving them more flexibility on their deadlines. The order was communicated shy of six days ago, while Felix was still in Mexico, which left Wolfgang to do bulk of the work. They hadn't gotten around to finishing the last few units of the order due to Kala's visit - not that they held the fact over her - but they worked as fast as they could on this particular day to have the order ready.

"I'm surprised we finished it on time," Wolfgang chimed, impressed with their change of work ethic at the shop earlier.

Felix rolled his eyes as he stood up, with Wolfgang following suit. He typed a quick message to Kala.

_Just had coffee with Felix, but I need to pick up something on the way. Will be there there in around half hour. (Delivered 3:05 PM)_

She replied back immediately, and he read the texts with a slight smile on his face.

_Great! Thank you for letting me know. (Received 3:06 PM)_

_See you soon :-) (Received 3:06 PM)_

Felix left a modest tip on the table before walking away from the cafe, nodding to the server who collected their empty cups and plates. Wolfgang put his hands inside his pockets as the two of them dawdled along the sidewalk, their pace unhurried among the busy foot traffic of tourists in the city central.

They walked in comfortable silence for not even a quarter of a block when Felix scoffed, "What are you talking about? Surprised that we finished on time?" He threw his hands in the air, exclaimed proudly, "We're the dynamic duo. Felix Berner and Wolfgang Bogdanow. Best key makers and locksmiths in Berlin." He punched Wolfgang lightly on the arm.

Wolfgang laughed, bringing Felix into a quick one-armed hug as he kept cheering.

“Hey," Felix began as their laughter quieted down. His face was more composed, and his tone was tinged with sadness when he said, "Today’s the day. Are you going to go?”

“Yeah, I’m going soon." Wolfgang slowed down his pace even more as they approached a familiar shop. They stood outside the front, letting the pedestrians pass through on either side of them. “I just have to pick up something first.” He looked up at the shop sign, and with that, Felix pushed the door open.

“Good afternoon.” A woman's voice greeted them warmly as they entered the shop. She was spraying water at the shrubs lined near the open window. It was quiet inside, the lack of customers indicating it was a slow day, but the woman was anything but bored as she played with the soil inside the clay pot before her.

“Hello.” Felix waved politely. He looked around briefly before asking, “Is Maude around?”

The woman shook her head, looking somewhat dejected as she wiped her hand on the towel slung over her shoulder. “No, she went home early. She’s not been feeling well recently.” She tilted her head at him. “Are you close with her?”

“We come in every once in awhile." Felix waved one hand casually. “Tell her Felix and Wolfgang hope she feels better.”

“You're very kind. I’ll let her know,” she smiled at him. “I’ll be in the back room if you need help with anything.”

“Sure." Felix nodded at her.

They walked towards a resplendent display of bright yellow and orange flowers, strung in garlands, hanging next to small pots of vegetable plants. At the first whiff of its musky odour, Wolfgang was reminded of the street vendors in Mumbai, whose baskets were piled high with these flowers, sometimes with red and cream variations mixed in to the bunch. He saw it everywhere during that week: above the entrances to people's homes, placed around sacred statutes when he and Kala passed by the temple, and Rajan and Navya wore them around their necks, too, during their wedding ceremony.

Felix gagged, covering his nose with his hand as he exclaimed, “Oh shit, Wolfie. What the fuck is that?” He leaned forward to read the plant species on the little card attached to one of the garlands. "Assorted _Tagetes_ \- genus _Asteraceae_ or _Compositae._ Common name, Marigold." He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, they're pretty. But...Mein Gott, that smell.”

Wolfgang chuckled, still affected by the strong scent, but not nearly as displeased by it as Felix was. He moved to a display he was more accustomed to, trying to look for a specific bouquet among the pinks and purples, ignoring the boxes of chocolates and teddy bears stuffed in the available space on the table. Once he found what he was after, he headed for the dedicated genus _Rosa_ section of the shop. He looked around for Felix, who was still standing in front of the marigolds, looking both equally intrigued and disturbed. He whistled to get his attention.

That seemed to snap Felix out of whatever daze he was in. “Ugh," he shuddered, looking at the plant one more time before turning to Wolfgang. "And Kala?”

Wolfgang hummed. “What about her?”

“You’re going to take her?” Felix clarified.

“Yeah." Wolfgang grabbed a bouquet of deep-red roses, its foliage a soft contrasting green, with small white flowers nestled in between. It was wrapped in brown butcher's paper, the stems tied together with twine. He held it up for Felix to see. “Do you think she’ll like these?”

“Roses?” Felix rolled his eyes, and said with a scoff, “Are you fucking kidding? Of course she will.” He smirked at him. “And I thought you knew women.”

* * *

Wolfgang parked his car at the waiting area of Kala's hotel, leaving the ignition on to keep the air-condition going. He took off his seatbelt, reclining his chair back a little as he sent her a text.

_I'm here. (Delivered 3:35 PM)_

He leaned his head back against the headrest, turning up the volume of the radio and let Beethoven's 'Für Elise' help him wind down after a long day at work. His phone buzzed with a notification, and he grabbed it from the top of the dashboard to read her reply.

_Oh, I'm sorry! I'm not quite ready yet :-( (Received 3:42 PM)_

He smiled to himself, not really minding the wait. He tried to ignore the small voice in his head that said, _He would wait for her forever if he had to_. Though as sappy as the cliche was, there was a lot of truth to it that he wasn't sure he was ready to voice out loud.

_It's okay, I'll be downstairs. (Delivered 3:43 PM)_

Wolfgang watched as the three dots appeared and disappeared from the message screen. He closed his eyes as the screen dimmed automatically, only opening it when it buzzed again. His jaw slacked a little as he read the two separate lines of text.

_If you want, you can come up :-) (Received 3:47 PM)_

_I'm on the sixteenth floor, room 240. (Received 3:47 PM)_

He looked at the two bouquets of flowers on the floor of the front passenger seat, and back to Kala's message for a few minutes, not being able to comprehend what the hell just happened. He was invited. Up to her room. His mind buzzed with the many scenarios he imagined for the two of them: on the bed, tangled up in sheets, her skin pressed against his, the sounds she made as he got her off again, and again, and again.

Fucking hell.

He felt a sudden tightening in his pants, that kick to his libido that he noticed only Kala could elicit from him these days. He willed himself to calm down, to think about the implications of her words. This was more than a casual invitation to him. His previous encounters with those women at rundown motels and cheap-looking apartments held little to no meaning compared to now - compared to Kala. But as much as he wanted her right then (and god, did he want her), he knew he needed to show her this defining part of him first.

In the end, he sent her a one-worded reply, hoping that his trademark stoicism would cover up how incoherent he felt at that moment.

_Okay. (Delivered 3:52 PM)_

* * *

As he walked down the soft-lit hallway to Kala's hotel room, Wolfgang felt polarised. He was both relieved and annoyed at the fact that her room was at the furthest end of the hall. Each step weighed heavy on his heart, and he just wanted to run the rest of the way, or go back to his car and wait for her there instead. He had never been inside her room in the four days that she'd been staying there - always either waiting outside the hotel or at the reception lobby. He didn't want to presume and follow her up whenever he dropped her back after spending the day together; a kind of gentlemanly approach that earned him a stupendous look from Felix when he told him.

( _Wolfie, you are a national fucking treasure._ Felix threw a lazy arm over his shoulders yesterday morning as he tried to recover from a gruelling hangover. _Kala is good for you, man. I've never seen you like this._ Wolfgang groaned his agreement, a little annoyed at the jostle of his body that worsened his headache. But he couldn't help the smile from breaking out behind his mug of black coffee.)

Wolfgang breathed deeply as he stood outside Room 240, cracking his neck from left to right to release the tension inside of him. Hiding the bouquet of flowers behind his back with one hand, he knocked twice on her door with the other. He listened closely for the sound of her lithe footsteps. When he heard nothing, he cleared his throat awkwardly, then looked down at his body with a small frown. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and combed his fingers through his hair in a last minute attempt to fix it. Shit, he should have looked at himself at the mirrored walls of the elevator on the way up. He knocked again.

This time, the door opened slightly, and Kala poked her head out before throwing it wide open upon seeing him. Wolfgang took her in, a little short of breath, as the light from behind gave her an ethereal glow. He swept his gaze down her frame. Her hair was half tied up, showing more of her face, which he liked. As much as he enjoyed running his hands through her curls, the curtain of hair hid her face whenever she looked down. He traced her features: the line of her nose, the lift of her cheekbones. She wore a blue sleeveless blouse, tucked into a cream floral skirt that stopped just before her knees. The nervousness he felt before was replaced by how in awe he was of her. He didn't think she could look even more beautiful, but here, now, she did.

"Suesse," he managed to get out.

If he was looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, she didn't comment on it.

“Hi! Come in.” She stepped aside and let him through, closing the door behind him when he carefully let himself in. He turned his body to face her, trying to hide the flowers as best he could to surprise her.

She didn't seem to mind his unusual shuffle, throwing her hair over one shoulder as she fixed her earrings. “I’m almost done getting ready, I promise.”

Wolfgang followed Kala as she walked to the vanity. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and she smiled sweetly at him as she swiped gloss on her lips. He smiled back, wrapping one arm over her stomach and holding her to him, presenting to her the delicately wrapped roses.

“Hi," he breathed out, kissing her cheek softly.

 _It was worth it_ , he thought. To see her gasp, stilling against him as she took the bouquet from his hands.

“Thank you,” she blushed. She inhaled the fresh scent happily and set it down on the table before turning her head to look up at him. “They’re beautiful.” The tip of her nose nuzzled along his jawline. He lowered his head to kiss her temple.

“Did you do anything yesterday?” He asked, bringing his free hand to envelop her into a proper hug. He looked at their reflection in the mirror, never wanted to take his eyes off her for a single moment.

She put her hands on top of his, lacing their fingers together as she hummed in thought. “I just walked around the area, did some shopping. But how are you feeling?” She frowned. “After Sunday night?”

He shrugged. “Woke up with a slight hangover yesterday, but I’m fine.”

“That’s good.” Her thumb smoothed over the back of his hand. “After I got dropped off at the hotel, I told Felix to make sure you drank plenty of water before going to sleep.”

He turned her in his arms, settling his palms on the curve of her waist, as her hands smoothed up his chest and rested on his shoulders. “I figured," he teased. “He never used to do shit like that before."

“Honestly." She rolled her eyes with a smile, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “You two.”

His eyes lowered down to her mouth. Fuck.

That thrum of desire he shook off before he left the car came back again. He wanted to pull her closer, kiss her, explore her mouth with his tongue. Her lips were full and shiny from the lip gloss. He couldn't think of anything else other than finding out what it tasted like. He quickly looked down at the space between them to gather his thoughts. And when he met her eyes this time, he told her, “Felix likes you, by the way.”

“He does?”

He mimicked the confusion on her face. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Her mouth opened and closed several times before she spoke. “I-I don’t..." she trailed off, still at a loss for words.

Wolfgang lowered his hands to her hips, drawing slow circles on her hipbone with his thumbs. “It's just Felix. You don’t need his approval," he assured her. But every single time Felix told him, in that grandiose and exaggerated way of his, that he thought Kala brought out a better side to him, Wolfgang couldn't help but agree. He couldn't think of a single woman that he wanted to truly know him. And while Felix never outright said it to his face, he knew that Felix had been waiting for exactly this: someone whom Wolfgang trusted enough to be honest with.

Kala seemed to pick up on the underlying message in his words. “I know. But he’s important to you.” She blinked up at him. “You’ve met my family. And they’re important to me.”

“Hm..." he pursed his lips in thought. It didn't take much for his mind to recall the memory - the way her two uncles hounded him the night before the wedding, at that rehearsal dinner. “But it was different back then,” he told her. He remembered trying so hard to contain his anger in front of everyone, practically shook with rage in his seat, calmed only by the feel of Kala's hand on his. 

“How so?”

He couldn't even begin to imagine the consequences that would unravel if he blew his temper. Though he supposed he didn't leave a positive first impression. “Half of them hated me,” he answered sardonically.

Kala vehemently shook her head. “No, it was Rajan’s distant relatives that disliked you,” she corrected him. There was edge to her voice when she added, “And as terrible as it sounds, I don’t care what they think.” Wolfgang raised his eyebrows at that, but her tone softened at her next words. “My real family likes you a lot.”

He was relieved to hear that, remembering Sanyam's fatherly treatment of him when she first introduced him to her family. Her mother, Priya, was just as lovely. She hugged him tightly before they returned to the hotel, told him it was nice meeting him and that he and Kala were welcome to visit anytime.

(Daya, on the other hand, was all too enthusiastic about the whole thing: she pulled him to the side as Kala was being smothered by her parents, and revealed to him that he was the first man to be introduced to Sanyam, in which he referred to them as "my son" so easily. _He must have seen something in you_ , were her words. _Please don't prove him wrong about you. Don't prove us wrong. Take care of my sister._ Daya looked at him imploringly, and Wolfgang was so humbled that he couldn't say anything else, other than promising her one absolute truth. _I will._ )

Kala removed one hand from his shoulder, her fingers skimming over the jut of his bottom lip. He parted them slightly, breathing through his mouth. She smiled, bringing that hand to the back of his neck. “Were you nervous when you met them? Like I was when I met Felix?”

He looked away as he shook his head. “No, I wasnt."

The lie was obvious enough. It was like she could see through him, and she didn't criticise him for it. She giggled, her fingers sinking into his hair with the movement, and he snickered along with her. 

Somehow, the relatively small distance between them became nonexistent, her face now leaning up towards his. “You didn’t need to be, you know," she whispered. 

His eyes kept looking down at her mouth and back up to her eyes. “And you didn’t either.” He leaned down halfway, their lips so close to touching. The sweet scent of her lipgloss assaulted his senses. 

Her gaze left his to focus solely on his mouth. “I guess it worked out well,” she breathed out.

“It did.” He captured her lips between his.

She tasted like honey. Wolfgang savoured it with a loud groan as she gasped into his mouth. The hand on the back of his neck brought him closer to her, holding his head steady as they kissed. The other hand on his shoulder clutched firmly, and he moved his own to grip her ass in response.  

She was the first one to pull back. “Wolfgang." Her chest brushed against his as she tried to catch her breath.

He chased her lips, smiling cheekily as he responded, “Yes?”

“I need." Kiss. "To finish." Kiss. "Getting ready." Kiss. 

Wolfgang moved his lips to line kisses along her jaw, going down to the column of her neck. He made a noise of agreement, the low hum in his throat vibrating against her skin, but he did nothing to pull away. He was gratified when she didn't move either. Instead, she tilted her head, exposed more of her skin to his mouth. He nipped at it gently, obliging her, the light teasing making her giggle. She lifted his head up to kiss him again, the pace becoming more gentle.

Wolfgang relaxed at the slow push and pull of their lips, sliding his hands back up to her waist. He pulled away first this time, dropping one last kiss before letting her go. He walked towards her bed, sat on the edge of the mattress as she looked at him with a disbelieving smile. He shrugged, motioning for her to continue getting ready. She turned back around to face the mirror, adding more lipgloss and fixing her hair.

When she went to the bathroom, he fell back on her mattress with a small chuckle. Looking up at her ceiling, he touched his lips with the tips of his fingers almost absentmindedly. He didn't think he could ever get over the softness of her lips, no matter how many times they kissed. He chuckled again, closing his eyes, listening to the sound of water running from the bathroom sink. 

* * *

The drive to Zehlendorf was almost an hour. About thirty minutes into the silent car ride, Kala yawned discreetly, denying Wolfgang's observation that she was exhausted. He turned down the air-conditioning, making it colder so she felt more comfortable. He told her she could rest if she needed to, and she gave him a tired smile. She leaned over to kiss his shoulder, curling up in her seat as best she could and closing her eyes.

He tuned in to the classical station on the radio, and was surprised to hear Shostakovich's 'Symphony No.5' being played on air. He caught the end of its second movement, its lively and raucous allegretto keeping him alert. The almost ominous drumming, faded into a more whimsical tune before elevating again into an upbeat sound. It set up perfectly for the dignified largo of the third movement, the chorus of strings in the opening unrestrained in its expression of hurt and sadness. 

 _How ironic_ , Wolfgang thought.

Kala stirred from her nap, breathing deeply to slowly wake herself up.

"We're almost there," he told her, rubbing her back soothingly. He could hear the smile in her soft answering hum. 

She rubbed at her eyes, blinking to adjust to the sunlight as she righted herself in the seat. “I meant to ask earlier. Who are these for?” She yawned, grabbing the bouquet of flowers from the floor that Wolfgang almost forgot about. 

The music became more subdued as the strings faded into the background, playing with near static tremolo, making way for the woodwind instruments. The intermezzi of oboe, clarinet, and flute, all build upon each other to convey a theme of loneliness and vulnerability. He always felt it could be a requiem of its own. The memories threatened to overwhelm him, being drawn forward by the emotions of the score. He shifted his gaze to Kala, wanting something to ground him to his present reality.

She looked at him without expectations, only smiling at him with the same open expression she always did. 

This was it. This was the day he never thought would come.

He kept his eyes on the road in front of him when he answered, “I want you to meet someone.”


	9. To Love Unconditionally (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In light of next year's episode 2.12 being titled 'Amor Vincit Omnia' (meaning 'Love Conquers All'), I revised this chapter into a two-parter after being so inspired by those three words.

Wolfgang squeezed Kala's hand in his as they walked along the pavement, the towering trees surrounding them being shaken by the gentle breeze. They walked side by side in comfortable silence, like it always was with her. He could tell she had so many questions by the way she kept glancing at him, but she refrained from asking, even though he resolved to answer her with nothing but frankness and sincerity. It was relatively empty today, save for the occasional people passing them from the opposite direction. He supposed it was late in the afternoon - people usually came in the early mornings or just after midday.

They approached an area familiar to Wolfgang, and he held out his hand wordlessly. Kala passed him the bouquet she had been holding from when they were still in the car. He knelt down before the stone, placed the flowers down on the patch of grass in front of it.

Kala remained standing, one of her hands covering her mouth, and the other crossed over her stomach.

He stood upright, taking back his place next to her as he took the hand from her stomach, interlacing their fingers together. He thought he saw her eyes shining with tears. He made to wipe at her face, but she shook her head.

She cleared her throat. “Your mother,” she said with a small voice. “She liked tiger lilies?”

Wolfgang looked at the photograph traced onto the stone, one of the only ones he had of his mother. It didn't do her justice - didn't capture the thickness of her brow, the highlights in the blonde of her hair, or the bright blue of her eyes that he inherited from her. On the stone, she was unsmiling, the shape of her eyes depicting a haunted look, which the monotone colour of the ink made more evident. She looked haggard and weak. _Perhaps that was more appropriate_ , he thought. After all, that was how he saw her most of the time after they moved to West Berlin.

He nodded. “After my parents would fight,” he sighed. “My mother would bring me to Tierpark, and we’d stare at the tigers.” His lips pursed into a sad smile. “They were her favourite. She said tigers were strong and determined, powerful creatures.”

“She’s right.”

He gestured to the flowers, its curled petals a pleasant hue of orange, with small black dots scattered faintly throughout. “I always bring these when I visit her. The woman from the shop once told me that they stood for protection against harm.” He shrugged nonchalantly, which looked stunted and awkward with how much he was tensing his body. “I don’t know how much of that is true.”

_Five thousand sixty-four divided by eight._

_Wolfgang stared at the question on the page with a small frown, his right hand tapping the pencil against the kitchen table._

_"Five thousand sixty-four divided by eight," he mumbled under his breath. "Five thousand sixty-four divided by eight equals..."_

_"Seven hundred thirty-three." His mother answered, her back facing him as she stirred the pot on the stove. She turned to smile at him, walked over to look at the page he was working on._

_"You're doing long division already?" She asked him with one eyebrow raised._

_He nodded. "Yes, Mama."_

_She took the paper and read it closely. "This isn't your assigned homework. What is it?"_

_Wolfgang scrubbed his eraser on the tabletop. "My teacher gave it to me. She said I'm good at math." He looked up at her with unblinking eyes._

_"Are you now?" She kissed the top of his head. "I'm so proud of you, my volchonok."_

_He threw his arms around her middle, and she leaned down to accommodate him as he returned the gesture. They stayed that way for minutes, until the slam of the front door made them break apart._

_“Mina!”_

_His father was home. And he was cursing as he made his way towards the kitchen._

_His mother's eyes were panicked as she looked back at him. “Wolfgang, go to your room.” She tried to give him a smile, though it ended up looking like a grimace. “I’ll help you later, okay?”_

_As his father drew nearer, she didn't give room for Wolfgang to respond. She gathered the loose leafs of paper, shoved them all into one notebook. “I’m in here, honey!” She nodded at Wolfgang. “Go, Wolfgang. Now. Please.” She hastily pushed him in the direction of his room._

_Wolfgang closed his door, but not all the way - leaving a tiny sliver so he could watch their shadows move._

_His father stood a few feet away from the table. “Don’t you fucking ‘honey’ me," he spat._

_"What’s wrong?” She sat down on one of the dining chairs. “Anton, are you drunk again? What were you thinking!”_

_Wolfgang closed his door as quietly as he could. He had never heard her speak like that before. Like she was both worried and scared at the same time. He threw an arm over his stomach as it clenched, and he was sweating profusely despite the cold draft from the open window._

_"These bills.” His father growled. “Who the fuck do they want to pay these bills?”_

_Wolfgang pressed his ear against the door, straining to listen for his mother's response. Among the soft murmurs, all he could understand was the desperate, "Why?"_

_“Because we’re Ossi, Mina!” His father snapped._

_A loud roar followed, and Wolfgang heard the sounds of objects falling on the ground. Something heavy at first, which clanged obnoxiously. Then it was a cacophony of loud ringing, as if several things hit the floor at different times._

_As if his father swept through the kitchen table and ruined all his mother’s dinner preparations. “For fuck’s sake. I knew that landlord was a piece of shit. Been here not even a year and they're already doing this to us.”_

_There was silence for a few moments, and Wolfgang thought they had stopped arguing. But then, he heard the muffled voice of his mother. There was a sniff, and a barely discernible sob. She was crying._

_Wolfgang began trembling. His hand grabbed the door handle, but he couldn’t make himself twist it open. He stared at it hopelessly as his father’s voice rung out once again. It got louder and louder with every question._

_"Why are you talking about Sergei, huh?” There was a sound of something scraping against the floor. “Are you fucking my brother behind my back?” Slow and heavy footsteps. “Because he has more money? Because he’s the favourite son?”_

_The terror in his mother's voice was clear as she stammered, “A-An-Anton, I would never-"_

_"Shut up, bitch!”_

_Smack._

_Wolfgang held his breath. He released his grip on the handle and slumped his back against the door._

_Smack._

_His heart was pounding in his chest._

_Another smack. Then a torn sob._

_He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, exhaled through his nose. Like she taught him to do whenever he was anxious._

_He flinched as he heard an impactful slam, followed by a keening whine. But he didn't open his eyes. She would scold him if he did. He let the memory of her soothing voice calm him down (_ It's okay, Wolfgang _, she would say._ Your papa is just tired. He's never like this. He'll be alright tomorrow _)._

_He knew it was a complete lie._

“It was always like that," Wolfgang said darkly. “My father would come home drunk most nights. And I would be told to go to my room.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hiding. Waiting...listening, as he hit her.”

He released their clasped hands to press his own over his face in frustration. He suppressed the urge to lament over his mother's grave, as he had in his previous visits. Instead, he channelled his emotions as he told Kala of the worst loss he had ever faced.

She stepped in front of him, and that helped in a way, to help ease his agitation. He could see her face, the devastation clear in her eyes, by the way her lips quivered when she spoke. “You were only a child,” she said in an equally soft voice.

“I could have done something.” He curled his fingers toward his palms, clenched them tightly into fists. “But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything for years.”

_On the afternoon of their last day of fifth grade, Wolfgang and Felix left the train station with wide smiles on their faces, very much looking forward to having the next few weeks out of school. They talked about everything they wanted to do, which films they planned to watch, when they could visit each other's' houses._

_Felix talked animatedly about the fulfilment of those plans starting this afternoon - a marathon of 'The Godfather' films - at Wolfgang's house, entirely planned by his mother a few days ago._

_(_ My two boys _, she cooed at them, pinching their cheeks in front of everyone as they waited at the train station._ I'll prepare some food for us on Friday afternoon, okay? And we can watch those films you like. _Felix nearly tackled her to the ground with how deliriously happy he was.)_

_Wolfgang held onto the straps of his rucksack as he kicked a stray pebble to the side of the pathway. “Mom said she was going to have milchreis ready for us.”_

_“Milchreis?” Felix threw a fist in the air as he jumped in excitement. The contents of his backpack jostled as he landed on his feet. “Gottverdammt, Wolfie. I love your mother.” He shook his head as they kept walking. “I haven’t had milchreis in so long. Do you think there’ll be applesauce on it?”_

_“I think so,” Wolfgang shrugged._

_“Is your dad home?”_

_The mention of his father made him stop mid-step. He looked at his watch, the hands ticking slower and slower in its old age. Just after four. His father had a habit of leaving and coming back at spontaneous times. But Wolfgang remembered being woken up earlier that day to the sound of his father screaming that he was going to meet with Aunt Elke and Uncle Sergei in the afternoon. “No, he would have already left by now.”_

_Felix peered closely at his feet. “He’s never there. Where does he even go?” He picked up a coin from the ground and pocketed it. “Work?”_

_“I don’t know.” As long as he wasn’t anywhere in the house, Wolfgang didn’t care._

_They continued to walk the rest of the way, passing by the liquor store he knew his father frequented. A few more houses and they get to sit down with his mother, eating his favourite meal as they watched television._

_The smell of burnt milk and rice hung in the air as they entered the front door. Felix immediately exclaimed in disgust. Wolfgang coughed, and covered his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “Mom?”_

_The pungent smell got stronger as they neared the kitchen. Wolfgang's eyes widened as he saw the overflowing pot on the stove. He rushed to turn the stove off, dumping the pot in the sink and running it under the water. The steam that emanated from the clash of polarising temperatures made his face warm, but he paid it no mind. He turned his head from side to side, eyes not registering his surroundings. He felt lost._

_"Mom?" He called out louder._

_She would always answer. No matter what she was doing. No matter where she was in the house. What was going on?_

_“Wolfie! In the living room!" Felix's voice echoed in the small house. "I found her."_  

_He didn't like Felix's tone one bit. He slowly made his way to the living room, only a few steps away. Felix was crouched on the floor, hovering over something._

_It was his mother’s body. Frail and crumpled, unmoving as she laid helpless on the floor. Wolfgang choked out a garbled sound, the gravity of the situation bearing down on him as he stood over her._

_Felix gulped. “She’s…”_

_Wolfgang shook his head, not letting Felix finish his sentence. “No. She’s not.” There was a catch in his throat as he spoke. “She can’t be.”_

_“What do we do?” Felix held his head between his hands as he looked wildly around the living room._

_The neighbours wouldn’t help, Wolfgang knew. And his father wouldn’t be able to afford a room in the hospital either. Although, something in Wolfgang told him that even if Uncle Sergei would lend them money, that it would go to something else. His eyes landed on the empty beer bottles dumped on the kitchen counter._

_“I’m going to call my parents,” Felix spoke like a mantra. “I’m going to call my parents, and I’m using your house phone.”_

_Wolfgang wasn't sure if he said or did anything in response, but he heard Felix talking a few minutes later._

_"It’s Felix. I’m at Wolfgang’s house. Can you please come here? It’s an emergency.” Felix sighed, his voice shaky. “Aunt Mina -”_

_A small intake of breath caught Wolfgang's attention. He looked down and immediately sat on the floor, touching his mother's face as she struggled to open her eyes._

_"Mama?” He asked softly._

_At the sound of his voice, the pained expression melted away into a blissful smile. She relaxed considerably, moving slowly to put her hand over his. Her palm felt clammy, but he didn't care._

_"Mama?" He repeated._

_Her eyes fluttered open for a few seconds, blue eyes meeting his own, and she opened her mouth to speak. "W-W-"_

_But before she could get a syllable out, her eyes suddenly fell closed. Her breathing evened out one last time before the rapid movement of her chest stopped entirely. The hand that was over his dropped lifelessly down to the floor._

_"N-No," Wolfgang muttered. He lowered his head to her heart, tried to listen for a pulse. But there was nothing. Just like that, there was nothing._

_He didn't even get to tell her he loved her one last time. He didn't even get a chance to say goodbye._

_By the time Mr and Mrs Berner frantically burst through the front door, with Felix in tow, they knew from the way he hung his head in defeat, that it was too late._

_Felix was the first one to speak. “Wolfgang...we’re-”_

_He stood up slowly and turned to face them, the joints of his knees aching. He must have been sitting like that for a while. He shut his eyes, gritting his teeth as he breathed deeply through his nose. His eyes flew open at the feel of Felix's scrawny arms around him, one hand clapping him on the back gently. Wolfgang stood still as he was passed over to the next person._

_Aunt Lena kissed his forehead over and over as she murmured, "I'm sorry, Wolfgang. I am so, so sorry."  He had nothing to say back, so he just nodded, feeling numb all over._

_When she released him, Uncle Bernhard hugged him so tightly he could barely breathe. His throat was closing up. He felt suffocated. But he hugged Uncle Bernhard back nevertheless, prompting the man to sob uncontrollably. "It's going to be alright, buddy. Okay?"_

_Wolfgang nodded weakly, blinked back the stinging in his eyes. There was a little voice in the back of his head, which oddly sounded like his father, that sneered. If he listened closely, it was almost like the voice was taunting, "You're next." He shuddered, and Aunt Lena wrapped her scarf around him, thinking he felt cold under the slow ceiling fan._

_It was not until the car door was closed gently - after Aunt Lena told him and Felix to stay in there for a few minutes while they call for authorities, after promising to take them for a nice meal, with a small smile that belied the haunted look on her face - that he allowed himself to shed a few tears in front of an anguished Felix._

_The funeral was two weeks after. It was a close gathering, consisting only of Wolfgang, the Berners, and a few women who worked at the shops his mother frequented. His father wasn’t there. Somehow, that wasn’t a surprise for Wolfgang._

_The priest talked of salvation after death, but his mother had so much of her life left to live. She wasn't ready to be taken into God's arms yet. And as he looked at the heaping mound of soil to be thrown on her casket, Wolfgang decided that no god could possibly exist in this world._

_Mina Bogdanow (née Engel)_  
_November 16, 1964 - July 3, 1999_  
_"To love unconditionally is the greatest gift you could ever give, and the greatest blessing you could ever receive."_

He watched as Kala leaned forward gingerly, tracing the words etched onto the stone with her fingers. “She was so young.” She straightened up and turned to engulf him into an embrace, the front of his shirt becoming damp with her tears. She couldn't stop them from falling now. When she looked up at him, he took in the shiny streaks cascading down her face, and he reached out to cup her jaw, his thumbs wiping away the wetness of her eyes. "Sh-She-you-”

Wolfgang stroked her cheeks slowly, bringing her head back down to his chest. She balled up the fabric in her hands, her dolour turning her voice into a low whisper. Her breath was hot against his skin. “She didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve that. How could-?"

He lifted her face up to lean their foreheads together, let his breathing assuage the raggedness of her own. He inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, invited for her to do the same. Fresh tears continued to spill from her eyes, but she calmed down considerably. 

“It’s not your fault, Wolfgang.” She held on to his wrists, keeping his hold on her face steady. “It was never your fault.” 

He nodded, lowering his hands from her face to place them on her hips. “I know.”

That was never in contention. He knew full well it was his father's doing, an attack on his mother during one of his drunken rages. But the investigation was quietly put down mere weeks after it happened - whether it was at the behest of his father, who knew several of the officers that were called to the initial crime scene; or something else entirely - and his mother's death was ruled as a household accident. Despite Wolfgang knowing the real cause of her death, he was unable to say anything, in fear of the news going back to his father.

So he stopped talking to him, avoided him as much as he could throughout the summer. The man didn't even seem to care of his whereabouts, as long as Wolfgang left breakfast for him in the morning and had dinner set on the table for when he got home. But Wolfgang knew he shouldn't have gone back to the house after his encounter with Meyer. That was the day he became the receiving end of his father's rage.

* * *

It hit Wolfgang right then, harder than it did when he first bared his soul to Kala at the ruins of the Berlin Wall. A deep pit in his stomach formed, the sinking feeling worsened with every passing second.

He saw bright flashes behind his eyes as he shut them tightly. Every choice he made always ended with either him being beaten badly, or someone he cared about being taken away from him. With his eyes still closed, he listened as Kala took sharp inhaling breaths. The tiny sob that escaped her lips stirred an ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Suesse.”

“Wh-why?” The desperation in her voice made him open his eyes. 

He refused to meet her gaze. “For burdening you with my past.”

“Wolfgang,” she started, her voice hoarse from crying.

He shook his head slowly. “But at least now you understand. How much my father and I are exactly the same.” He looked at his hands on her hips, rough and calloused over the years. She felt so small under his touch, and he gulped at the realisation of how easy it would be to break her. Like his father did with his mother. They were Bogdanow men, after all. It was in their blood. That capacity to be a monster.

But he would never, ever dream of hurting Kala. He felt so much for her - felt so much that he was simultaneously terrified and grateful that she would freely choose to be with him, still chose to be with him, kept choosing to be with him. And yet, the inevitable was cruelly shoved in his face.

“Maybe now...” His throat clogged up at the words. The last thing he wanted was to be the reason for her hurting. He swallowed thickly, pushing the rest of it out through gritted teeth, trying to keep his voice even. “Maybe now, you’ll see why it would be better for you to be with someone else.”

How could she still want to be with him? After everything he told her? The knot tightened in his stomach, and he steeled himself for the worst. He consoled himself with the thought that he finally got the chance to be honest with someone. And if Kala took this moment to be the deciding factor of the end of their relationship -

“No.”

He felt the world stop spinning when she uttered that one word. 

Her face burned red and her eyes were puffy, the broken expression on her features mirroring his mother's after every time she argued with his father. But he knew Kala was nothing but determined - that fire in her eyes returning as she suddenly kissed him.

The press of her mouth on his was fierce and demanding. One of her hands caressed the underside of his jaw, and the other went to the base of his neck, pushing him even closer to her. It sent shivers down Wolfgang's spine, the way her fingers curled into the short strands of his hair and tugged harshly. He returned it with just as much passion, communicating everything he couldn't say into the kiss.

_I don't deserve you. Thank you. I don't deserve you. Thank you. I will spend all the days of my life making it up to you. I don't deserve you._

When their lips parted, they stayed close, breathing each other's air. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“No," she repeated. "Don’t you dare.” 

There was a finality to her tone that he couldn't challenge even if he tried. So he remained silent, looked at her with intent eyes, clung on to everything she was saying.

“I don’t think I’ll ever truly know what it’s like,” she said, gently running her hand through his hair. “To live under your circumstance. To experience so much pain, and anger, and loss, at such a young age. To keep all of that buried for so long.” She sighed. “But your life is not a burden. Not to me."

She lowered her hand down the side of his face, to the line of his collarbone, where she rested it above his heart. "The person you think you are, shaped by the violence of your childhood, the reputation of your family...is not the person I see - is not the person I know.”

He gulped, the meaning of the gesture probably unknown to her, but it sent his pulse racing.

“You are not a monster, Wolfgang,” she smiled at him, the tears welling up in her eyes not coming from a place of sadness this time. “One day you’ll be able to see that.”


	10. To Love Unconditionally (Part Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience over my two month hiatus from this fic! I hope you enjoy reading :-)
> 
> PS. Netflix dropped the trailer for next year's episode at the ComicCon Experience in Brazil! Fingers crossed that they'll release it worldwide within the next few weeks as a nice little treat for us this holiday season. Despite their insistence that it's a 'finale', here's a friendly reminder that #ThisIsNotTheEnd for us! Our road to season 3 is only beginning. Love you, my Sense8 fam!

Wolfgang didn’t know how long they stood there, his arms wound securely around Kala's frame. She hugged him back, her fingers carding through his hair so gently, as if she hadn’t just shattered his world and built it anew with her words moments ago. As if she hadn’t just made Wolfgang think of himself as anything other than a monster for the first time in years.

He tightened his hold on her and let out a deep sigh, which she responded with a sigh of her own.

She leaned back from the embrace to look at him. “Tell me something good,” she smiled. “Your favourite memory of her.”

The request stunned Wolfgang into silence. He looked down at his feet, brows furrowed in concentration now. He vaguely registered the feeling of Kala stepping away from his arms, and he heard a faint rustle against the grass. He assumed she sat down, after standing for too long, but he couldn’t be sure. He was too ensconced in his thoughts.

He couldn’t remember the last time his mind conjured a good memory from his childhood. It seemed he was only capable of recalling the bad ones: the ones that pointed out his mistakes, the ones that made him realise what he could have done better - what he should have done to prevent those fucking awful things from happening.

He wracked his brain for any semblance of a good memory - looking past the sharp pains, the bruises, and the shrieking cries of a woman - until he chanced upon a handful that he knew wouldn’t make his blood boil with anger, or his chest ache with regret.

But which one?

The first time his mother brought him to the public pool - where she held him afloat while he flailed his arms and kicked aimlessly in the water, laughing as he constantly splashed at her? Or perhaps the time she took him and Felix to the theatres to watch an unremarkable film, because all Wolfgang remembered was being happy to spend time with his mother and his best friend?

He sat down on the grass next to Kala, leaning back on his elbows and bending his knees up to get comfortable. He narrowed his eyes at the epitaph, a sentiment chosen by the Berners, along with Wolfgang’s silent affirmation.

One memory seemed to stand out the most; and each moment he could remember with such clarity because he had never seen his mother smile with such hope. Had never heard his mother speak with such profoundness until that day.

_“Mama,” Wolfgang began, testing his next words in his mind._

_His eyes were fixed on the enclosure across from where they sat, which housed five massive tigers. They poised motionless before the hoard of tourists wanting to catch a glimpse at them, until one moved to lick its paw and scratch it over the side of its face, breaking the rhythm of the group. The tigers broke apart, each finding their own space within the enclosure and settling themselves down, doing whatever they wanted._

_When the tourists moved out of the way to explore the rest of the area, Wolfgang made use of the relative quietness and repeated with more confidence, "Mama."_

_She looked at him expectantly. “Yes?”_

_He pointed at the tiger closest to them, the animal lazily resting its head on its front paws. “Do you think tigers can talk?”_

_“I’m sure they can." She nodded, then tilted her head to gesture at the tiger from before. "They can hear us, and they talk to us, but we just don’t understand.”_

_He pursed his lips, trying to draw a simple conclusion from her words. “So...I can tell them whatever I want?”_

_“Of course. And they won’t tell anybody. You know this,” she said, giving him a stern look._

_Wolfgang looked at his feet, dangling above the grey flooring. He did know. She told him when they first came here a little over a year ago. He couldn’t ask her then, though. Just like right now, he would sit next to her and watch as she observed the animals in complete silence. But he figured he could ask her this time. "Is that why you come here, Mama? Because you love talking to the tigers? Tell them secrets?”_

_She didn’t reply. Instead, she watched the sleeping tiger from before as it stretched its body out before sitting up, grooming itself with its tongue._

_Wolfgang waited patiently for her to speak. Although, his worry that he made her upset drew a crease in the middle of his forehead. He scooted forward on the bench to touch his feet to the floor, and he stood in front of her, two pairs of blue eyes meeting. Slowly, he flattened his right palm over the left side of his chest, then brought that same hand to rest over his mother’s heart._

I’m sorry. _She taught him how to do that._ I love you.

_Her features softened, putting her hand over his for a moment, then placing it down. “Secrets keep people together better than love, volchonok,” she sighed._

_He looked up at her curiously. “What kind of secrets?”_

_She held up a hand and counted with each finger as she spoke. “Big ones. Small ones. Good ones. Bad ones.” She looked from left to right, like she didn’t want anyone to hear. “You were a secret, too,” she told him._

_His mouth formed into a big ‘O’. “Was I big or small, Mama? Good or bad?”_

_“You were a big secret. But a very good secret,” she said as a matter of fact._

_Now he wondered something else. “Did Papa know I was a secret?”_

_Her gaze dropped from his. “Eventually.”_

_Wolfgang frowned, knowing he couldn’t ask her what she meant. So he asked something else. “Tell me another secret, Mama!”_

_She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You promise not to tell anyone? Even your Papa?”_

_He couldn’t think of a reason to even talk to his Papa, let alone tell him another one of Mama’s secrets. “Promise.” He gestured to zip his lips shut, eyes crinkling in laughter as his mother smiled at him._

_She lifted him up and set him on her lap. Wolfgang leaned back further into the embrace. Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Love can keep people together, too. But only when you’re with the right person.”_

_To Wolfgang, it almost sounded like she was sad. He shifted in her arms to face her, tilting his head curiously. “How do you know if you’re with the right person?”_

_“You’ll know, volchonok.”_

_He wondered if she found the right person in his father. But people who love each other shouldn’t make the other person cry, or hurt, right? Carefully, he reached out to skim the tips of his fingers along the yellow-green puff under her eye._

_She flinched at the initial contact, then grabbed his hand in hers. She turned it over and pressed a loud kiss to his palm._

_“It doesn’t matter. But promise me you’ll find the right person. And you have to give them all your love. Like I give all my love to you, yes?” She smoothed down the hair that stuck up at the back of his head._

_Wolfgang nodded. It seemed like a big task - one he wasn’t sure he could ever fulfill. But he made a promise, and he intended to keep it. “Mama. How many kinds of love are there?”_

_“There’s plenty. There’s the love a mother has for her son,” she said knowingly. “That’s my favourite.” She wrapped her arms around him and peppered his cheeks with kisses, making him laugh and squirm uncontrollably._

_When he settled down, she continued, “There’s the love you have for your family and friends.”_

_She released her hold on him, straightening his shirt that had ridden up with the movement. His face was scrunched up in concentration, trying to name anyone else besides his mother and Felix that fell under that category, but found that he couldn’t. They were the only people he would ever need._

_His mother thought otherwise, giving him a look that said she always knew better than he did._

_"But…” She motioned for him to inch closer, like she was saving the best secret of all. “Know this. The best love is the one between you and the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”_

Wolfgang turned his head to look at Kala. Her eyes were still closed, hands clasped together in prayer, a small smile on her face. She was murmuring something under her breath. He listened closely to the words, but couldn’t understand them. She was speaking in Hindi. When she opened her eyes and turned to look at him, he was almost caught off guard by the peaceful expression on her face.

“What were you saying?” He asked.

“I’m asking Ganesha to look after her,” she replied simply.

He swallowed uneasily. “I-”

 _Gods don’t give a shit about humans_ , he wanted to say. And even if they did, they probably didn’t give a fuck about him and his problems. He would know. He spoke from experience.

He knew she understood his apprehensions by the way she nodded, solemnly almost.

“It’s okay. Ganesha always listens.” She looked up at the sky, and Wolfgang followed suit - trying to see what she could see. A god. A tangible manifestation of this redeemer that everyone talked about. So he could ask them a question that he wanted an answer to for almost twenty years.

_Why?_

Why him? Why his mother? Of all the circumstances he could have been born into, why did it have to be this one?

He waited several moments. But just as he anticipated, he received nothing. It was no different from any other time he found it in himself to confront a higher power: his jaw set as he bared his soul to something he couldn’t know for sure was real, feeling skeptical yet vulnerable at the same time. He expected to be angry. It was all he ever knew: pissing on his father’s grave, kicking at the headstone, swearing and screaming until his lungs gave out. All in a petty attempt to return a fraction of the torment that the monster inflicted on him and his mother.

But there was no anger within him now, just an acute tiredness that made Wolfgang’s shoulders slump in defeat and his eyes shut closed.

He heard Kala’s soft murmurs again, felt the strands of her hair tickling his arms as she scooted closer to him. His senses were consumed by her; and with the sun warm on his face, the only other question he could muster up was: _What the fuck did he do to be fortunate enough to have Kala in his life?_

He was adaptive to spontaneity; had to be susceptive to his father's volatility, because he had no other choice if he wanted to make it past the age of twelve. But meeting Kala was too significant to be called a mere spontaneous encounter. It was an unexplainable phenomena that Wolfgang wouldn't have a fucking clue to describe, because there was no logical explanation for the way the two of them were somehow brought together from different sides of the world. And he knew it wasn't pure coincidence either.

_What word was he looking for?_

His thoughts were interrupted by Kala asking, “Do you think she would mind if I called her by her name?”

He had no idea why she would ask that of him, but he was overcome by the thought of Kala meeting his mother for the first time if things had turned out differently. There was no doubt in his mind that they would get along; in fact, his mother would probably delight in sharing embarrassing stories about him as a child. He blinked back the sudden wetness in his eyes, unhinged the tightness of his jaw as the vision faded away.

He focused back to her, more than a little confused. He observed the way her top teeth worried over her bottom lip. He leaned over to the side and braced himself with one arm to look at her properly. And in a gesture that she always seemed to do to him, he reached out a steady hand to smooth a palm down the side of her face, letting the tip of his thumb graze her lip so her mouth parted open. He shook his head slowly as their eyes met, the touch saying more than he could've ever hoped.

“No.”

She accepted it with an eager nod, leaning back to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Mina,” she said softly.  

Wolfgang straightened his spine to sit up as he took in a sharp breath, listening attentively to every word she was saying. He had forgotten the sound of his mother’s name; always dreaded when his father said it because it was only ever uttered with contempt. Though from Kala’s lips, it sounded anything but.  

“I’m sorry you had to be taken away from us so soon," she began. "It would have been such an honour of mine to meet you. But I'm glad I got the chance to do it right now.”

She clapped her hands to dust off the grass stuck on her palms, which left small indents on the skin there, before curling them into fists on top of her crisscrossed legs. Tentatively, he uncurled her left hand with his right one, threading their fingers and squeezing their palms together.

“Thank you for taking care of Wolfgang.”

Kala placed her other hand on top of theirs, playing with the back of his hand and tracing his knuckles as they exchanged soft smiles. He was humbled by her words, and he silently offered his own gratitude to the heavens in every language he knew.

After a few moments, he noticed the faltering of the corners of her lips, furrowing his brow at the sadness and hurt so evident on her features. Kala’s hands gripped his tighter. She cleared her throat, taking the time to close her eyes and gather herself before continuing.

It dawned on him that she was easing some of his pain on her. Like she had been for the past few days as he slowly unravelled to her his past. She felt sadness and hurt for _him_. For what he lost. For what he went through. For what continued to haunt him. Because she didn’t want him to carry this burden on his own. He tried not to react to the shudder that wracked his whole body, the overwhelming feeling from before coming back to take over.

_He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve her. And he will spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her. For as long as she’ll let him._

Wolfgang sensed a change in her demeanour as her eyes fluttered open. Her gaze left his to settle on the grey headstone before them, but he kept his eyes on her. When she spoke this time, the tremor in her voice had subsided. “Thank you for showing him that he has something good and beautiful underneath all that darkness.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, but found that he was unable to. He was rendered speechless, awestruck, captivated by her. She didn’t seem to mind his lack of verbal response, instead carrying on with a line that made Wolfgang’s stomach clench: “You would be proud of the man he is today.”

(His mother’s voice was faint in the back of his mind, and he remembered the distinct catch in her throat whenever she was close to crying. _I’m so proud of you, volchonok._ She would tap the tip of his nose with her finger, before kissing it lightly. _You know that, right? I’ll always be proud of you. No matter what._ )

“I hope you are safer, and happier, where you are,” Kala ended with a soft sigh, bringing with it a tide of calmness and serenity that washed over them both.

Breathing deeply, Wolfgang felt more at ease now than he ever did since he began visiting his mother’s grave. He looked at the photograph etched on the stone again, and was surprised to see _that_ knowing look on his mother’s face instead of the sad and harrowed expression he always interpreted it to be.

It was like his mother could see them from wherever she was. And if he listened closely, the sound of her laugh carried through the trees, masked itself in the melodic chirping of the birds nearby. He kept turning her words in his mind over and over. For years, he didn’t really understand what she meant.

Wolfgang looked at Kala once more, the sun casting down on her, making her look even more resplendent. She turned to him, giving him a tender smile before leaning her head on his shoulder. The contact raised goosebumps on his skin, and a hearty contentment settled deep within him that he welcomed without hesitation.

_The best love is the one between you and the person you want to spend the rest of your life with._

Here. Now, with Kala, he finally understood.

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Wolfgang saw Kala sneak a glance at him as he pulled into the drop-off zone at her hotel. He shifted the car into park, pulling up the handbrake and drumming somewhat erratically on the steering wheel. The spell from the moment they shared at the cemetery faded away as soon as they saw the cityscape; the high rise buildings amidst weathered historic structures, the faint smell of tobacco and sewerage, and the buzz from the emerging Berlin nightlife brought them both back to reality. The seatbelt tightened uncomfortably around his body as he leaned back against the seat, though he didn't so much move an inch to loosen its grip or correct his position. 

From beside him, Kala initiated the first conversation they had since they left the cemetery. 

“You’re quiet today,” she quipped. 

He couldn't help the quirk of his lips at that, the awkward silence between them slowly breaking down little by little. 

“I’m quiet all the time.”

But he knew that wasn't true. Not entirely, at least. He talked quite a lot only around Felix and around her, something Will and Riley mentioned to him by way of observation when they stumbled upon one of his Skype conversations with Kala. 

(It was three weeks after he returned from Mumbai. He had just ended his three-hour long call with her - how it got to three hours so quickly, he didn't know - when Will and Riley knocked on his door.  _Wolfgang, I didn't know you could talk this much_ , Riley said to him, wide-eyed and a bright smile on her face as she gave him a peck on the cheek in greeting. Will clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head in mock disapproval as he said, _I can't believe it took you months to even acknowledge me, man!_ Wolfgang rolled his eyes as Riley giggled. _But I guess that's Kala for you,_  Will added. _She always had this way of making people feel at ease when she talked._  Wolfgang had to agree. _Yeah_ , he told them, _she does._ ) 

“Wolfgang." She took off her seatbelt, turned her body to face him while he remained in the same position from before. The uncertain waver in her voice was back. “Is everything alright? Did I say something out of line or-”

That got him moving. He took off his own seatbelt and leaned his body over the centre console, reaching out to frame her face with his hands. 

"No," he assured her. "It's not that."

She held on to his arms, lowering her head to drop kisses on the skin of the insides of his wrists. His pulse was racing from the touch of her lips. An acknowledgement that she believed him. An encouragement for him to express whatever was on his mind. 

He knew how he felt about Kala. The revelation he stumbled upon at the cemetery only reinforced everything he thought about over the past six months of their relationship. It wasn't like how films made it out to be. He wasn't hit with an unexpected wave of emotion; didn't need to be torn apart from her to realise that she was the one. It was a quiet and fulfilling realisation: being with someone he didn't know he was missing his whole life. 

But how was he supposed to tell her? That he loved her, with every fibre of his being? That he wanted to be with her, and no one but her, from here on end? And also, why the fuck didn't he ask Felix how to do this? Though, he supposed the bastard would tell him to do it in the most extravagant of ways, something he was averse to doing because it simply wasn't in his nature. He quarrelled with his inner thoughts, the constant shift in his train of thought inciting a rhythmic pounding in his head that only went away when he heard Kala's voice. 

"What is it?" she asked. She drew slow circles with her thumb from where she gripped on his forearms.

 _Don't fuck it up. Don't fuck it up_ , one part of his mind told him.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

 _It's simple. Three words. Just say it_ , said another part of his mind.

Okay. Three words. Simple.

Something else entirely left his mouth. “Stay with me.” 

She froze instantly, which made Wolfgang loosen his hold on her on instinct. Of all the possible reactions he had the mind to prepare himself for, this wasn't one of them. He was ready to take it back completely, to tell her that it was just a suggestion, that she didn't have to if she wasn't alright with it. But she recovered just as fast, blinking furiously as if to snap herself out of deep thought.

"You-I-you-want me to-what?" She stammered, breaking away from his hold to gather her hair on one shoulder, running her hands through the mid-lengths to the ends with a shaky laugh. "Huh?"

He felt warm despite the blast of the air-conditioning. “You still have four days in Berlin, right?” He willed his heart to stop beating so fast and so loud, lowered his voice to the point where even he couldn't understand what he was saying. “You don't have to stay at the hotel by yourself. You can stay with me. In my apartment. If you want.”

But she caught on. “Wolfgang, are you sure? I—I don’t want to impose." Her voice was thick when she spoke, her eyes looked suspiciously watery as she gnawed on her lower lip, trying hard to hide the smile threatening to break out.

What was he even worried about in the first place?

“You won’t.”

He could have sworn he saw a tear roll down her cheek as she responded, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is inspired by Pablo Neruda's 'Cien Sonetos de amor' XVII:
> 
> Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva  
> dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
> 
> (I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom but carries  
> the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,)


End file.
